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littlemourningstarr · 4 months

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In Darkness, Divided

More than a year after the Netherbrain, Sekh returns to the Szarr palace, in the hopes of finding answers to Astarion's budding questions on his vampirism and his desires to tame it for his own benefit. What he finds, instead, is a secret passage to a world he left behind over fifty years ago- the Underdark. Unfortunately for him and the family he has built, the Underdark is as vicious as ever, and fate is a cruel mistress, ready to attempt to rip apart everything he had knit together so tightly.

Part Two: Revelation

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, referenced past Cazador/Astarion, background astarion/rolan/tav, budding omeluum/blurg, oral sex, vaginal sex, angst, kidnapping, torture, blood drinking, vaginal fingering, blood kink, violence, canon compliant sexism, canon compliant racism, multiple orgasms, grinding, frottage, misgendering, threatened sexual assault

Epilogue coming this Friday!

Glossary of terms: Jaluk - Drowic derogatory word for a male Szarkai - Albino drow, the term translates to "ghost spiders" Chitine - Underdark arachnid humanoid race Elg’caress - Drowic derogatory word for a female Iblith - Drowic for "filth", often used to refer to surface dwelling races

Sekh kept his cloak hood up, his hand resting on the hilt of his shortsword beneath it. The city had come into view off in the horizon an hour prior, and he hadn’t relaxed since.

It had taken three days of navigating the Underdark to reach, with very little rest. He was exhausted, down to his bones- he had kept his trances to no more than four hours, and there had been little when it came to supplies to bring along for the trip, as the party had expected to return to the surface.

Astarion was faring better than him- after all, he had drained the drow Sekh had interrogated dry . But that had still been days ago, and Sekh was sure the hunger was clawing at his lover persistently. Yet he never once uttered a word.

In fact, Sekh felt as if this might have been the quietest they had been together, ever . They both had been determined to make it to the city- Lolth’s Cradle , as it was so named- that their minds seemed to focus on little else. The only thing that felt almost normal was when Astarion curled into Sekh’s arms for his nightly trance.

It had been a risk, to not rest in shifts- but they did not want to risk losing that much time. As it was, Blurg’s captors had a half day on them, and would have reached the city by now. Every second mattered.

“Keep your hood up,” Sekh said, “don’t interact with anyone , and just follow my lead.”

Astarion grasped his hood, flipping it up over his white curls. For once, he gave no argument. Sekh appreciated it.

The city wasn’t walled like some- it simply began in a flourish of buildings. They were fairly scarce at first, most likely retaining buildings for whatever house called this city theirs, or dwellings for those who might farm out in the various directions. But the path that was dirt and rocks quickly became smooth, polished stones-

And just as suddenly as he had left one, so many years ago, Sekh was back in a drow city.

It was… breathtaking, he had to admit. The structures were extravagant, mixes of the subterranean fungal wood from zurkhwoods and other plants, along with stone, polished and buffed to nearly gleam.

Only what accounted as a few blocks into the city, life was teeming . Drow mingling with other drow and duergar, the scattering of many household slaves working, running errands. Sekh’s own village hadn’t been nearly this busy, and he had only once traveled with his parents out into one of the more lively cities, but it hadn’t been this large.

He listened around him, trying to pick up hints as to who was coming and going- if the slave trade was lively here , or if the party may have plans to take Blurg further into the Underdark.

Distracted as he was, he bumped directly into someone at the next corner. He stumbled back a step as the drow turned on her heel, glaring at him with glowering red eyes.

“Watch yourself,” she gritted, her hand moving to the hilt of her sword. It took Sekh a moment to register her words, spoken in Low Drow, Drowic .

He hadn’t spoken it for years.

But what came next was memory. He pulled his hood back, gave a half bow to her out of respect , apologizing in the same tongue. She frowned at him, muttered jaluk , before she studied Astarion next to him. She reached for his hood, pulled it back before Sekh could stop her, eyes studying him as if he was a specimen .

And Sekh’s lies wove themselves.

“Don’t stare as if you have never seen a Szarkai ,” he said, allowing himself to move between her and Astarion, holding his shoulders firm. “Lolth’s ghosts deserve your respect .”

The woman gritted her teeth, but didn’t argue. She turned quickly then, walking away in a huff, knowing that even as a man, Astarion would outrank her as szarkai . Sekh noticed her half cape had a house crest on it, stark red against jet black-

He swore it looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“What in all the hells was that?” Astarion asked, voice low. “What did she say? What did you say ?”

“Later,” Sekh murmured, “don’t speak much- you’ll give yourself away.” Astarion frowned, but pinched his lips shut tightly, flipping his hood back up and following Sekh as he began to move.

Sekh left him down now- there didn’t seem much point in hiding himself. He was a drow after all- and even if his father’s bloodline had been rather non-classical in looks, he wasn’t the first ginger haired drow to exist. He could see spots of copper adorning other drow’s heads.

They made their way further into the city, until what was clearly the commerce and trade section took life. Sekh saw a number of humanoids chained at the next, being led towards a small stand to be sold. It answered his question on if Blurg would need to be taken further to be sold- it seemed the slave trade was alive and well, here.

He wormed his way into the crowd, Astarion close behind. A small crowd had gathered around one drow, who was addressing them as if he had an oddity on display.

Which, he almost did. Sekh paused when he could see, taking in the humanoid’s short stature, his multiple arms- four . There were mandibles protruding from his face, and in the glowing light of the flora settled atop poles- city street lights- there was a sheen to his clammy skin. He heard Astarion’s breath escape him, but didn’t have a moment to turn around and explain the situation.

He quickly made his way through the last few members of the crowd, the male drow holding the leash of the humanoid grinning at him. “Ah, hello brother . Interested? Freshly caught just two days ago, I swear- barely even had to teach this one submission.”

“Where did you find a a Chitine ?” Sekh asked, feigning interest in examining the chitine’s shoulders. The other drow bustled with pride .

“Trade secret I’m afraid. They’ve been scarce in these parts as of late- but I’ve got some of the best scouts ever bred. We always find them.” He jerked on the chitine’s leash, and it turned its head to Sekh, faceted eyes studying him- black and resigned.

Sekh kept his voice even. “Business is good then?”

“Business is grand .” The drow waved at a couple passing, shouting a greeting to them, before he turned his attention back to Sekh. “If you’re looking to expand your home, you can’t do better than a chitine. The webs last years , and with a little care, so will he. A good investment.”

Sekh folded his arms, lifting his chin a little. He stood the same height as this drow, and it allowed him to look down slightly at him. “I’m looking for something more robust .” The other drow hummed, and Sekh added, “Have you any hobgoblins?”

The drow whistled. “Arguably uglier than these spider freaks , but I see the appeal. Afraid I don’t, friend. But…” he paused, seeming to think over his next words. “I might know of some that just came in- another network. Of course, I can’t just send all my clientele to the competition .”

Sekh reached into his cloak, wordlessly took a few gold pieces and pressed them into the man’s hand. The other drow didn’t even look at his hand, simply slipped his hand into his pocket, as if Sekh had only greeted him, and he was assuming a casual stance again.

“ Ah , you know- my memory is treating me well today. Head down to the tavern, Wraith’s Lullaby - and look for a drow by the name of Phet’in . If he isn’t there yet, he will be shortly, at the bar, corner stool- most likely alone with a few pints in front of him.”

Sekh nodded his thanks and turned, slipping his hand beneath Astarion’s cloak to squeeze his and guide him out of the crowd. Just as they emerged Astarion pulled his hand back, whispering, “ Sekh’met , what was that?”

“I swear I’ll explain,” he said, “once we have privacy . I’m taking us to a tavern- if they have rooms I’ll get us one, and I’ll explain.” He paused, then added, “you’re doing fantastic.”

“At keeping quiet ? Gods, fine , thank you very much love.” Astarion said it louder, a bit sing-song like, and Sekh narrowed his stare. Astarion sighed. “Right, fine. Quiet . Gods this is awful.”

It took a bit of navigating- and more than once Sekh got lost in the new city- but eventually he found the tavern, a rather large building with a sign right above the door proclaiming Wraith’s Lullaby .

Beneath it were a few crudely painted drow, all done up in pure alabaster white, surrounding what Sekh knew to be an incarnation of Lolth. He’d seen too many images of her to ever forget.

He stepped inside, found it was rather quiet, compared to the city. A few patrons sat at the bar, drinking- a few others at tables, loudly talking away- but it wasn’t bustling as he presumed it would be, come the later hours.

He walked up to the bar, flagged down the man working behind it- a moderately handsome drow man, hair all pale blonde curls. “Your poison?” he asked, as he pulled a bottle from a shelf behind him and poured an amber liquid into a glass.

“ Respite ,” Sekh offered, “do you have a room?”

The man slid the drink down the bar to a waiting patron, his attention turning fully now to Sekh. “Private?” Sekh nodded. The drow whistled. “Those don’t come cheap, friend. Five gold per night- and you’ll find they’re more expensive if you go elsewhere. Or not even available.”

Sekh bit back an argument over the ridiculous price, preferring to keep a rather low profile than his coin. Besides, they had enough of it. He placed the five gold on the bar, and the man snatched it up.

“I’ll write you in- name?”

Sekh didn’t hesitate. “ Sekh’met .” He didn’t need a false name- no one would know him here. No one would know him anywhere in the Underdark.

The drow hummed, giving him a curious look. “Pretty name, pretty face. Must get you attention.” He pulled out a paper, scratching Sekh’s name onto it, before producing an old, worn key. “Only other copy is with my sister- she owns this place. So no worries about unwanted visitors .”

Sekh took it with a quiet thanks, knowing he would still ensure a chair was firmly wedging within the door. He left the bar, heading up a flight of stairs, Astarion close behind, glancing at the numbers over the doors. When he reached theirs he found the key clicked easily into place, opened to a small room with a narrow bed. There were no windows, and an old wooden chair off in the corner, near a small table that could be used for writing.

The moment the door was shut, Astarion ripped his hood down, turning quickly to Sekh. “Explanations, my dear- now .”

Sekh locked the door, tested the handle to ensure it held, then tucked the key into his pocket, moving quickly for the chair and dragging it across the room, lodging it beneath the door handle. “You might want to sit down.”

Astarion glanced at the bed, face twisting up in dismay. “ Gods below I miss our bed even more.” Still, he stripped of his cloak, draping it on the bed and sitting on that . “There, sitting . Now start talking .”

Sekh took his own cloak off, tossing it onto the table. “Where should I start?”

“Oh, I don’t know- with the sudden shift in language, or, perhaps the spider like man that was leashed in the middle of the street !”

Sekh winced slightly, Astarion’s voice rising. “Thin walls,” he warned, “keep your voice low. We’re not on the surface, Astarion- assume that everyone is always listening.” The elf sighed, but didn’t speak again. “What you saw was a chitine . They’re spider like humanoids- used to be enslaved hundreds of years ago. They’re quite good builders. I never met one, but my father knew of a few when he was alive- said his family used to live close enough to walk within a day or two to a village. They’re fairly… reclusive.”

“I would be too if I looked like that .”

“ Astarion .” Once again, Astarion pinched his lips sealed. “They were rare to see fifty years ago, even rarer now I assume.”

Astarion leaned back on his hands, soaking in the information. “Fine, alright. So spider people aside of driders- lovely . What in all the hells were you speaking? I couldn’t understand a word of it.”

“Drowic. Er,” Sekh cleared his throat, “ low drow . Seems the city is mostly drow, so you’ll hear it a lot. Undercommon might pop up- it’s not that different from our own common. You might be able to make out general ideas.”

“No wonder you didn’t bloody well want me speaking. I didn’t even know you spoke this.”

Sekh finally walked over to the bed, sat next to Astarion. “It didn’t come up. Sometimes I just… forget. I never need to speak it to the few drow I ever see on the surface. But it came back to me just fine.”

Astarion reached for one of Sekh’s hands, tracing the bones of his knuckles along the back. “Did you speak it with your parents?” Sekh nodded. “Then… how could I understand , when you shared your memories with me?”

Sekh paused, considering it. It felt like lifetimes ago- but he had invited Astarion into his mind, used the tadpole to share a memory of his family, while he still had the chance. So Astarion could meet them in the best way possible.

“Perhaps since you were sharing my memories, the worm just… translated for you? Converted the words into something you’d understand. I’m not sure, honestly.” Astarion dropped it then, and Sekh recanted what he had spoken to the drow trader about.

In the end, it seemed fairly clear what they had to do next. Wait . Wait for the tavern to get busier, and then look for this Phet’in.

Until then- they were both exhausted. Sekh was more than happy to stretch out on the small bed, Astarion curled up along his side, head on his chest. Despite that it wasn’t the comfort of home, it was preferable to sleeping on the ground again.

“You called me something,” Astarion said, voice a bit sluggish. He’d fall into a trance soon- or actual sleep , considering how exhausted he must be. “To that woman.”

“Szarkai,” Sekh said, “ ghost spiders . They’re… well, albino drow. But they look like surface elves- at least, the pale, white haired kind. Your red eyes make it perfect.” Sekh paused, rubbing a hand along Astarion’s spine. “Trust me, it’s safer for someone to think you’re just special than a surface elf here. If anything you’ll just have some people fawning over you- maybe a woman or two hoping to bring your blessing into her family line.”

Astarion snorted a laugh. “I’d rather not be used as breeding stock , thank you.” He closed his eyes, adding as his voice grew more tired, “unless you’re looking to use me, that is, darling.”

Sekh went a little tense- not enough that Astarion would notice- but the muscles in his belly grew tight, a sudden fluttering in his chest. It was said in jest, he knew, and nothing more. Best not even dwell on it now.

They couldn’t have rested more than a few hours- but when Sekh woke, he could already hear the faint noises from the tavern below. He stretched slightly, Astarion pressing further into his chest, not yet awake.

Carefully Sekh untangled from him, standing up in the dark room- he had dosed the small lantern that had been burning when they entered. He checked the door first, found it still locked, the chair still in place. A good sign.

He stripped of his shirt, removing his spare from the satchel they had brought with them. They hadn’t carried much on their journey, but he felt it prudent they be able to look at least a little put together.

He was tucking it into his unlaced pants when he heard the bed creaking, Astarion waking. The vampire yawned as Sekh turned around to face him. He was mid stretch, toes curling into the bed, arching his back so delightfully that Sekh forgot for a moment he needed to focus on anything else.

Astarion flashed him a very fangy smile. “You’re staring.”

Sekh only smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

The vampire chuckled, sitting up and shaking his curls. “Oh, I know darling . But do keep reminding me.” He stood up then, walked over to Sekh and batted his hands away from his pants, choosing instead to lace them slowly himself. “So what’s the plan my sweet? Are we ripping out throats yet?”

“Not quite.” Sekh pulled his hair free, left it that way, as he turned away, fetching Astarion’s spare shirt as well. “We need information first- and we don’t want to make a scene.”

“I don’t foresee a little casual murder being very eye catching here, but fine .” Astarion pulled his shirt off, accepting the fresh one Sekh offered him.

Sekh figured Astarion had a point, but it was still best to keep a low profile. He reached for Astarion’s cloak, but the vampire waved him off.

“I’ll draw more attention if I just walk around as if I’m trying to scare children . Besides, you said I look like a- szer-sz ur -”

“ Szarkai .”

Astarion snapped his fingers. “Yes, that . So I’ll just blend right in.” Sekh frowned, but Astarion added, “Just come up with some fun little tale to weave about me. You seem quite good at that, after all. Who knew you were such a good liar .” He wrapped his arms around Sekh at that, pulling him flush to his back. Sekh felt the ghost of his lips, on his neck, as Astarion breathed into his skin, “it’s rather alluring, actually.”

“What, that I can lie ?”

Astarion hummed, the tips of his fangs touching Sekh’s neck, grazing over one of his many scars. He shivered, unable to stop himself, felt one of Astarion’s hands trailing along his belly, toying with the hem of his trousers.

“ Yes . With that sweet, loving, bleeding heart of yours , it’s easy to forget that you have this devilish bit in you. As alarming as it was to watch you rip information from that drow days ago- it was rather… exciting.”

Sekh swallowed thickly, closed his eyes and took a breath. He couldn’t deny it had felt so good , to be angry, to tear into the other drow, to watch him bleed . Reminded him that, despite the hell he and his companions had gone through because of the Netherbrain, parts of it had been so enjoyable .

Astarion let go of him before he could dwell more on it, and Sekh pushed the thoughts aside. For another time.

As expected, Sekh and Astarion found the tavern bustling when they emerged. What had been empty tables were now packed, patrons even standing, music trilling from a pretty drow and her lute.

At the bar a woman had joined the male drow he met earlier. Sekh squirmed his way to the bartop, as Astarion seemed to fade into the crowds, lurking . Even if he couldn’t understand what was being said, Sekh trusted his eyes to see anything .

The woman caught a glimpse of him, elbowed the drow from earlier, who whispered something- and then she was walking over, smiling at Sekh.

“You must be our little guest,” she said, pressing an elbow to the bar and resting her chin atop her hand. “My brother said we had rather pretty company.”

Sekh leaned closer, flashing a fetching smile . “Pretty words from a prettier face,” he offered, watched a slight flush rise to her cheeks. “I hope I live up to whatever honeyed words he told you.”

She reached out with her free hand, boldly twirled some of Sekh’s hair around her finger. She wasn’t even hiding the way she was looking at him. “Hair like fire- not something we see much. And you do have a striking face. Care for a drink?” Sekh gave a nod, and she released his hair. “What’s your poison?”

“What’s yours?”

She straightened up, eyes going half lidded. “Oh, men who know how to be on their knees and are quick with their tongues.” She winked, then added, “but if you’re just interested in my drink preferences, we’ve got a good whiskey with just a hint of tongue of madness. A few of those and you’re sure to have a night you’ll never forget.”

Sekh reached into his pocket, slid a few silvers across the bar. “Two,” he said. She picked it up, turning away from him, sauntering to the bottle racks and making a show of pulling one down. Sekh glanced away from her, scanning the room- he had lost sight of Astarion, but he did his best to quell his anxiety over that. Astarion could handle himself.

He took in the patrons at the bar. He had no idea what Phet’in looked like, and there were a number of male drows well into their cups already at the bar. He’d need more information.

The woman returned, setting both whiskeys in front of Sekh. He picked one up, only to push the other towards her. She smiled, picking it up. Sekh took a single sip, looking as if he was savoring the flavor.

It wasn’t bad , truth be told. But he knew if he threw it back in a single drink, he’d only hinder himself. He had never had much of a tolerance.

The female drow on the other hand tossed it back in a single gulp. “My brother said you weren’t alone- had some silent type with you.”

Sekh played with the glass in his hands, not watching the barkeep but scanning the room again, casually .

“Said he looked quite pale , from what he could see.”

Sekh turned his stare back to her, spoke in a softer voice. “Szarkai,” he said, “fresh from thirty years on the surface. He can’t speak much about what he was doing up there, but I was sent to bring him home. So many years up there damn near took the knowledge right from his mind, Lolth preserve him.”

The goddess’s name was so vile on his tongue he nearly gagged.

But the barkeep was interested . She leaned closer. “I’ve never met one before- you only ever hear about them in stories. Nobility always keeping them locked away like a treasure .” She glanced away, and Sekh noticed she had spotted Astarion, in the crowds. He was standing near the musician, looking aloof . “Should have gotten him his own room- there will be a line wanting to bed down with him.”

Sekh couldn’t help himself when he said, “he’ll be fairly occupied already.” The drow woman turned her stare back to Sekh, and she positively grinned .

“Guess it never hurts to sample the wares, as I just did.” She tapped her empty glass on the bartop. “Shame he won’t be leaving any little ghosts in you, though. Not the right parts for that.”

Sekh almost laughed- it was ridiculously comical to him that she was wrong.

“But if you both get bored and want some more… company- my brother can always handle this place on his own.” Sekh hummed then, leaned over the bar and reached for her, traced a single finger along her jawline, tipped her pretty face up. Because she was pretty- it made this easier.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he nearly purred, watching her eyes ignite . “We have business first though. Do you know a drow named Phet’in?”

She leaned closer, and Sekh could feel the warm puffs of her breath as she spoke. “I do- regular when his company is in for trade.”

“Point him out like a good girl for me?”

It was a risk to speak to her like this, Sekh knew. But playing the meek angle didn’t feel right- and he had a feeling she wasn’t used to being addressed as mistress - she was common blood, just like him.

She bit her lip, and Sekh knew he had her, from the look in her eyes. She tipped her head slightly, and Sekh followed the movement, looking across the bar. “Scar right over his eye,” she whispered, as Sekh took in a male drow with cropped ashen hair, downing a drink and then nearly dropping the empty glass on the bar, signaling towards the male barkeep for another.

He did indeed have a rather gnarled scar dragged over one of his red eyes. Wordlessly, Sekh tipped his still mostly full whiskey glass, and the barkeep moved out of his space, pouring another glass of it.

When she slid it to him, Sekh reached for her hand, palmed two gold pieces into it and leaned into her ear, whispering, “thank you sweetling.”

She gave a little breath, and Sekh stood, gathering both drinks and moving through the crowd. Astarion had disappeared again, lost in the crowds. Sekh paused a moment to try and find him- only to have a very quiet, “looking for me pet?” whispered into his ear.

He jumped, coming dangerously close to spilling the drinks he was holding. He glanced over his shoulder, leveled a glare with no force behind it at Astarion. Astarion nodded to the drinks, and Sekh handed him the one he had sipped from. He then jerked his head towards the drow at the bar with the scar, and Astarion only nodded.

They walked through the crowds, until they were behind the man. Sekh could tell the drow knew he was there, by the slight tension in his shoulders. He was alert , despite being into his cups. Dammit .

“Phet’in,” he said, not a question. The drow glanced over his shoulder, before turning away, his back to Sekh. He was either arrogant or very stupid .

“Not interested in your pretty face, boy. Cocks don’t do it for me.”

Sekh was fairly glad Astarion couldn’t understand what the man was saying.

“I couldn’t be less interested in yours either. Word is you might have a hobgoblin for sale.”

Phet’in sighed, turning fully then. Up close he was a bit larger than Sekh had thought- muscles pulled tight along his arms, a few notches in one ear. He looked as if he’d seen adventure, and a lot of it. Sekh offered him the drink in his hand, and the drow took it, glancing from the glass to Sekh, then back to the whiskey.

Without a word, he threw it back in a single shot.

Sekh decided cocky and stupid. Definitely.

“Sale’s already been made, I’m afraid.” He set the glass idly on the bar. “Only had one this time- not a very robust fella.”

“Who bought him?” Phet’in glanced past Sekh, ignoring the question, eyeing Astarion now. He frowned, drew a deep crease between his brows.

“Szarkai?” he asked, and Sekh nodded. “What house does he belong to?”

Sekh fumbled mentally for a moment- dammit , of course, the one bit of history he was so lousy at it one would think he wasn’t even a drow . “I can’t disclose that,” Sekh offered, “at least, not so… openly .” Phet’in frowned, looked about to turn away. Sekh was losing him . “But,” Sekh said quickly, “maybe we can have a more… private chat.”

Phet’in clicked his tongue. “Make it worth my while,” he said, and Sekh leaned onto the bar next to him- caught the eye of the female barkeep again. He picked up Phet’in’s empty glass, and said over the din of the tavern, “The whole bottle.”

Phet’in’s eyes lit up over that. The barkeep brought the bottle over, setting it on the counter, and Sekh smiled so sweetly at her, handing her the coin to cover it. Her fingers lingered on his hand, before she pulled away, sauntering off with a purpose to the sway in her hips.

Sekh grabbed the bottle before Phet’in could, motioning to him with a curl of his fingers. Sekh turned then, making his way back around the bar, not once looking to see if the drow was following him. He could tell by the look in his eyes he’d hooked him. And he didn’t want to seem too eager .

The upper floor was fairly deserted- Sekh could hear some questionable noises as he passed one of the doors, but he ignored it completely. He unlocked he and Astarion’s room, pushing the door open and gesturing in. Phet’in studied him for only a moment, before he stepped inside.

Astarion followed, and then Sekh pulled the door shut tightly. “About as private as you’ll get around here,” Phet’in said, glancing about the sparse, small room. “ Private costs you some pretty coin though.”

“My matron has no shortage of coin,” Sekh said, offering the bottle to Phet’in. The drow took it, twisting the cap off and flicking it away, before he took a long swig. He grimaced at the burn.

“Phet’in,” he finally offered in introduction, offering his hand. Sekh took it, and the man gripped firmly , almost painfully- as if trying to establish dominance. “Phet to most, Phettie to friends.”

“Sekh’met,” Sekh offered, “ Sekh to everyone.”

Phet hummed, took another swig of his drink. “Your friend not speak? He’s quiet , even for a damn ghost spider.”

Sekh glanced at Astarion, who was studying the man quite openly. At the attention being turned to him, Astarion sipped at Sekh’s whiskey glass. At least his face didn’t give away that he had no idea what they were saying.

“He’s been topside for thirty years. Go that long without speaking drowic and you get confused easily. Do you know common?”

Phet laughed, but when he responded, it was in fairly clear common. “I do- business often requires it.” Sekh saw, from the corner of his eye, Astarion perked up slightly, finally able to understand . “Can’t imagine thirty years up on the surface. Your matron must be happy to get her little spider back.”

Sekh hummed. “She’ll be very pleased.”

“Haven’t mentioned her name yet,” Phet pointed out.

“No, I haven’t . Information for information. I’ve given you some already and a rather nice drink,” Sekh nodded to the whiskey bottle. “Who did you sell the hobgoblin to?”

Phet took another swig, ran his tongue over his teeth. “Sweeten the deal more- information is nice , but it’s not going to buy me another bottle when this runs dry.”

“Name your price.”

Phet whistled. “Thirty gold,” he said, adding, “ And when we’re done, you go talk to that pretty thing behind the bar and see if she’s willing to spend some time with me.” He took another swig of the whiskey. Sekh hoped it might loosen his tongue a bit. “Damn elg’caress won’t give me the time of day. But you know how the women are around here.” Another swig , “almost makes the surface seem pleasant . At least it’s easier to get cunt there.”

Sekh kept his mouth shut , even though it was hard . He really didn’t care for this man- and the fact that he expected they’d have to kill him was starting to sound quite pleasant , the more he talked.

Phet gave him a look over, before turning his stare to Astarion. “Not that I imagine that’s difficult for either of you.”

Sekh cleared his throat, before Astarion could cut in, “You’ve named your price- I accept. Now, information .”

Phet grabbed the chair Sekh had previously used to keep the door shut and sat down into it heavily. “Alright, alright . The hobgoblin was snatched up right quick by the Duskryns. I take it you haven’t passed through here before, by the confused look you’re giving me.” Sekh gave a nod. “Still, you’re shit with your history if you don’t know the house. Pretty face only gets you so far- don’t forget that.”

Sekh was very over this man commenting on his face.

“They’ve had control over Lolth’s Cradle for damn near a hundred years now. Grown it quite a lot too- trade’s better than ever here, especially when it comes to slaves. Busy house, they are.” He leaned forward, rested his arms on his thighs. “Not sure if they’ll keep him here or ship him off to one of the main houses- but they did tell us they were interested in more hands if we come across any.”

Sekh folded his arms, cocked his hip, tried to look aloof, bored . He noticed Astarion was strung tense- maybe not to the stranger’s eyes, but he could see it. “And if I wanted an audience ?”

Phet barked a laugh. “You’re madder than a drider, Mettie . Unless you’re going to gift them your pretty little ghost spider here.” Phet turned his attention to Astarion then. “Would piss off your matron, but I bet Lolth would get a good kick out of it in her webs. And the Duskryns would be interested in a szarkai.”

Astarion gritted his teeth. “I’m not for trading ,” he said, and Phet gave a low chuckle.

“ Ah , he speaks. His common sounds like a damn surface dweller- he really has been up there too long.” Phet turned his attention back to Sekh. “That’s all I’ve got. Now, march your ass downstairs and come back with that elg’caress . I’ll even handle you joining in, if it means she’s willing.”

Sekh moved for the door, pausing at the handle. When he glanced back, Phet was drinking from the bottle again. In that moment, Sekh decided he was definitely stupid- arrogance would only have taken him so far.

“Astarion,” he said, and the vampire glanced at him. “We’re done now.”

Astarion grinned then, moving with an immortal speed. He pivoted on one foot, pulling a dagger from his thigh, and in a single motion embedding it into the side of Phet’s neck.

The drow didn’t have a chance to give more than a dying gurgle. He dropped the bottle in his hands, tipping forward, tumbling off the chair and sprawling on the floor, giving only a few twitches before his body stilled.

“My gods he was annoying,” Astarion said, as Sekh walked over, grabbed the whiskey bottle and set it on the table before it could soak the floor. Astarion grasped the body, hoisting him up into a sitting position, leaning him against the chair, so the blood on his neck would drip down his body instead of pooling on the floor.

Sekh crouched down, feeling around the man’s pockets. He didn’t have much useful on him- but Sekh did find a small parchment, stamped with a red wax seal, all curves and lines-

He’d seen it before. On the female drow’s half cape, earlier- but somewhere else, too.

“You’re thinking something,” Astarion said, and Sekh set the paper on the table.

“Just that you shouldn’t let him go to waste.” Astarion’s eyes flashed, and Sekh knew the mere thought of all that blood had the hunger clawing harder at his gut. “You haven’t fed in days .”

The vampire reached for the now dead drow’s shirt, tugging at the laces so it opened more, revealing more of his neck, his clavicle. “I wouldn’t say no,” he whispered, “it has been… uncomfortable .” Astarion glanced over at him. “I might lose myself just a touch. It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt this hungry.”

Sekh felt his pulse spike, and from the way Astarion smirked , he heard it. Silently, Sekh reached for his waist, grasped at his shirt and began to push it up his abdomen.

“Undressing me already?” Astarion teased, as he took over, stripping the shirt over his head and leaving it on the table.

“I’m just making sure you don’t bloody some of the only clothes we have,” Sekh chided. He shifted closer, one hand rubbing along the small of Astarion’s back, the other hand reaching for the handle of the knife still in the dead drow’s neck. “Now,” he said, placing a kiss to Astarion’s bare shoulder. “ Feed Starshine .”

Sekh pulled the dagger from the drow’s neck, and Astarion leaned into the man’s body, mouth covering the wound as blood flooded over his tongue. Sekh watched his eyelids droop, his throat work as he swallowed almost immediately, the wound offering a far quicker blood flow than his usual bites.

Sekh left the dagger on the ground, watched Astarion’s hands clutch at the dead man, his nails digging into cloth- ripping it with such ease. The vampire gave a groan, and Sekh could imagine his tongue working into the wound, desperate to get as much blood into him as quickly as possible.

Astarion pressed his face closer to the man, into skin, blood smearing along his chin. Sekh rubbed his hand along his spine, up over scars, then back down, to the hem of his pants. The vampire purred over the touch, a pleased little rattle, as he broke off from Phet’s neck, sucking in a breath.

His eyelids fluttered, and those ruby eyes looked so clear , when he looked at Sekh through his silver lashes. Astarion let go of the body, not caring as it thumped to the ground. He reached for Sekh, pulled him flush to his chest, one hand tangling in his hair, cradling the base of his skull.

“Darling,” he breathed, “I can smell you .” Sekh shivered, and Astarion bared his bloodied fangs. “Do you want a taste?”

Sekh didn’t answer- didn’t need to . Astarion simply held his head firmly and closed the space between him, mouth crashing into Sekh’s in a hot, desperate kiss. Sekh gasped around Astarion’s tongue, hands gripping at his biceps now, holding on as he drowned in the thick, irony-salt of the man’s blood.

He felt dizzy, as Astarion pulled away. Astarion hummed, smiling in a wicked and yet soft way. “Gods I love that you love this.”

Sekh chuckled, let his tongue swipe out over his lower lip. Astarion looked ready to go for his lips again, but contained himself, instead releasing Sekh and turning back to the corpse. He crawled over it, ignoring the wound at the man’s neck, and bit lower, towards the crook of his shoulder. Phet’s blood flow was slowing, but Astarion seemed intent on getting every drop he could.

Sekh sat back, simply watched , body far too hot under his skin. He swore his cunt clenched with each extra bite Astarion gave, with the sound of his teeth breaking flesh. The vampire gave little groans, pleased noises as he drank and drank , until he was finally lifting his head again, letting it hang over the corpse. He panted, open mouthed, blood and saliva stringing from his lips to the latest wound he’d left.

He was monstrous and glorious and the closest thing to divinity Sekh had ever seen and ever wanted to.

Astarion turned his head, locked his eyes with Sekh. The need was unspoken- the desire was thick enough in the air, a string pulled so taut between them it was nearly razor sharp. Sekh scrambled to stand, but Astarion was so fast , moving in nearly a blur.

One minute Sekh had been pushing to his feet- the next he was being shoved down onto his knees, chest pressed up against the side of the small bed. Astarion pressed flush to him, digging his groin into Sekh’s ass as his hands moved around Sekh’s waist, deft fingers working quickly at the lacing of his pants. Sekh squirmed, clutched at the bed, as one of Astarion’s hands delved in, past his underwear, fingers slipping to the wet juncture of his thighs- and easily inside.

“ Fuck ,” Astarion breathed, into Sekh’s ear, “darling you’re drenched. All this from just a little taste?” He thrust his fingers in quickly, had Sekh feeling dizzy already. The drow bit at his lip, trying to ride Astarion’s fingers, hating that there was so much clothing between them.

Astarion dragged his still bloodied fangs along Sekh’s neck, tongue flicking against warm skin, his own hips bucking. Sekh could feel the outline of his cock, was torn between trying to grind back into him and grind down onto his fingers.

He was feeling sparks inside him, already, body beginning to clench at Astarion’s fingers. It had been so long since he’d seen his vampling like this, he could damn near forget how dangerously close to the edge it threw him. Sekh bit at his own lip, felt the heel of Astarion’s palm brush his clit. His body jerked at the touch, and Astarion growled into him, pulling his hand from Sekh’s pants and grasping his clothing, dragging it over the swell of his ass, halfway down his thighs.

Sekh arched his back, as he heard Astarion frustratingly pawing at his own clothing. Before he could even glance over his shoulder to look, though, he felt the vampire pressing to him again, rubbing his cock up along his slit, teasing . Sekh breathed out fuck , and Astarion chuckled.

“Oh, we are my dear .”

The vampire thrust into him quickly, sheathing himself fully in Sekh’s pliant body. Sekh shuddered, mouth falling open in a gasp as Astarion grasped at his hips, dragged him back to meet his thrust.

It was rough , the way Astarion was rocking into him- so deep that Sekh wasn’t sure he could form words. All he felt capable of were panted breaths, the smallest noises as Astarion’s cock filled him , hit that sweet spot inside that he seemed to have memorized .

Astarion bowed fully over him, bit at his shoulder- teeth digging in but not breaking skin. He groaned into Sekh’s flesh, shuddering as the drow clenched around him tightly. “So- good ,” Astarion panted, “good for me-, my darling .”

Sekh let go of the bed with one of his hands, desperately reaching between his own legs, fingers finding his swollen clit. He was so sensitive it nearly hurt . He mewled as he rubbed his fingers over it, seeing white bursts in the corners of his eyes.

Astarion’s rhythm was beginning to falter- he could feel each jerk of his hips getting faster, harder . Sekh pushed back against each thrust, wanting him to come, wanting to feel it so deep in his fucking soul -

Astarion’s nails broke the skin at his hips, claws holding Sekh like fucking prey . And despite that the room already smelled of blood, Sekh swore he could smell his own, somehow.

He knew Astarion could, the vampire’s words dissolving into nothing but little growls, broken attempts at Sekh’s name, and pleaded fucks .

Sekh tipped his head back, a wordless groan leaving him when it was too much. He clenched around Astarion, tightly , a static warmth flooding his spine, his belly, his cunt. The moment his orgasm started Astarion buried deeply in him, hips stuttering in shallow thrusts as he found his own bliss.

Sekh could feel the heat, inside him, almost whimpered as Astarion’s cock throbbed, gave and gave and gave until Sekh swore he had never been so full in his life.

He dropped his head forward, forehead resting on the bed as he panted. Astarion leaned over him again, nuzzled into his hair, nails finally releasing his broken skin. He hadn’t even pulled out when Sekh managed to lift his head.

And in a deep growl from his chest, commanded , “Astarion, get on the bed.”

The elf moved quickly, pulling from Sekh- gods , what an awful feeling- and climbing onto the bed. He had barely gotten on his back when Sekh was straddling him, one hand reaching behind him to grasp his still hard cock, giving him a firm stroke.

With that much blood in him, Sekh knew his vampling wouldn’t be satisfied yet. And gods , was he alright with that.

Sekh lifted himself up, sank down onto Astarion’s cock, watched the vampire tip his head back, a euphoric smile pulling at his lips. Sekh leaned over him, grasped his hands so their fingers laced together, and pinned them down to the bed. He bared his own teeth as he rode Astarion, watched the way Astarion craned his bloodied neck as he arched, the way his eyes fluttered as Sekh took him fully inside, nestled into the soaking wet heat of his cunt.

“You can come again,” Sekh breathed, his own body screaming at him, nerves overstimulated now. The room was spinning around him, but he didn’t even care. Astarion breathed out a yes , and Sekh pushed his hands harder to the bed, found his mouth for a brutal kiss.

He licked at the blood on Astarion’s fangs, tasted it on his tongue. The room was going black and his eyes were still open , but Sekh didn’t care. All that mattered was getting Astarion to that blissful breaking point again, watching him come undone for him , knowing that he was his, his, his .

Sekh could feel blood trickling over his hips, from the skin Astarion’s nails had broken. He leaned further down onto Astarion, pressing into his neck, licking at the blood that was smeared there. “You’re mine ,” he hissed, as Astarion began to roll his hips up, trying to meet each of Sekh’s thrusts. “Fucking gods Astarion, say it .”

“Yours,” he breathed, as Sekh squeezed his hands. Sekh lifted from his neck, sought out Astarion’s mouth, kissed him desperately, like he had never kissed him before- like he never would again.

Astarion clutched at his hands at his second orgasm hit. Sekh buried him deep, began rolling his hips in smaller motions, guiding him through it . The vampire whined into the kiss, whimpered for Sekh, around his tongue. Sekh felt him shiver, and then felt him begin to relax , as that soft, blissed out feeling set in.

Sekh pulled off his mouth, panted against Astarion’s wet lips. He could just see the vampire’s eyes, completely closed, the corners and his lashes damp from the sheer intensity of their coupling. Sekh smiled to himself, very carefully releasing Astarion’s hands and pushing himself up, the vampire’s cock still deep inside him.

Astarion’s eyelids fluttered open, and he gazed up at Sekh, color on his cheeks, a smile growing on his lips. His curls were a mess around him- and Sekh swore he seemed almost angelic, even with the blood on his lips, chin, neck . Even with those fangs visible.

Astarion reached one of his hands up, moving slowly now, almost lethargic, not quite reaching Sekh. “Come down here to me,” he said, softly. Sekh lifted himself carefully, biting back a noise at the feeling of Astarion’s cock slipping from his body. He stretched out next to Astarion, and the vampire rolled onto his side, gathered him into his arms, held him rather tightly.

Sekh felt his lips on his forehead, in his hair, and then one of Astarion’s thighs, pushing between his legs.

“Let me take care of you now,” he whispered, a hand trailing down Sekh’s side, to his hip. He grasped it, guided Sekh to roll his hips against his thigh. Sekh bit at his lip, felt his whole body shudder at the friction on his clit. Astarion’s hand moved to cup his ass, guiding him to rut faster. “That’s it darling,” he whispered, as Sekh gave in, the over stimulation from before leaving him aching to come again.

He rocked against Astarion’s thigh, breaths coming faster and faster, until his chest ached. His head was spinning from the rush of oxygen, but Astarion’s arm around him kept him grounded . The vampire kept encouraging him, sweet, honeyed little words spoken into his hair, until Sekh was seeing white and then nothing at all , crying loudly into his neck as his whole body trembled. He swore each nerve was igniting within him as he came, the web inside him burning to ash, moving to burn muscle, melt bone .

He went limp, as it subsided, panting heavily into Astarion’s neck. The vampire hushed him , the hand that was on his ass moving to stroke his sweat slick spine. Sekh closed his eyes, held onto Astarion in the afterglow, feeling the tension draining from both of them.

Sekh wasn’t sure how long they lay there, entangled. Time seemed to simply stand still, to cease to exist , while he was in Astarion’s arms. He almost thought he drifted, into a half sleep- must have - because when he next came to, the tavern below had begun to quiet.

Sekh stirred, carefully lifting his head. The room was dark, the lantern he’d lit upon bringing Phet up had long since burned out. He pushed himself up slowly, supported his weight with one arm as he lay on his hip, looking around the room. For a moment, he could have forgotten where they were.

Astarion grumbled next to him, but stretched slowly, coming to as well. Sekh could see his eyes flutter open, even in the dark- everything cast in grays now.

Sekh smiled down at Astarion, watched those lashes flutter slowly, the sleep beginning to fade from his eyes. “Hello love,” he whispered, and Astarion offered a lazy smile.

“ Hello my sweet .” Slowly Astarion sat up, but instead of even glancing around the room, he reached right for Sekh, cradling his cheek in one hand as he leaned in to gently peck his lips. Sekh chased him for a proper kiss, mouths moving in slow drags, filling the room with nothing but the soft sounds of their lips.

Sekh almost wanted to fall back to the bed- no, he did want to fall back to the bed. He wanted to tangle in Astarion, hold onto him as they coupled again, slow now . Wanted to make love to him until Astarion was nothing but a puddle in his hands.

Instead, he forced himself away, stood up from the bed. He was halfway across the small room when Astarion said, in his pleading little voice that almost always got him what he wanted, “Come back to bed.”

Sekh paused at the door, knowing if he even responded he’d be doomed. He twisted the handle, then frowned, sighing at himself . “We didn’t even lock the door.”

Astarion chuckled. Sekh was glad the vampire found his carelessness amusing . They had been vulnerable, distracted as they were- and he knew they couldn’t afford that. Not here.

Sekh locked it quickly, moving towards the table- carefully stepping over Phet’s now cold body, and grabbed the chair, hauling it back to wedge under the handle. Astarion watched before he climbed out of bed himself, stretched until his spine cracked pleasantly. He glanced at the body on the floor, then clicked his tongue.

“So, what is the corpse disposal etiquette here in the Underdark?”

Sekh sighed. They’d have to get the body out of the tavern, somehow, without being seen. He figured they could leave him in any alley- after all, the stab to the neck made this seem like any sort of business deal gone wrong. Maybe it would distract from all the extra bite marks Astarion had left.

He said as much to Astarion, as the vampire began to slowly dress. Sekh didn’t bother yet, moving past the body, picking up the paper he’d left on the table that he’d found in Phet’s pocket. He rubbed his thumb over the wax seal again, still trying to place the sigil-

In his post orgasm clarity, mind finally relaxed , it clicked.

“Astarion,” he said, not even looking up from the purchase note. The vampire walked over, wrapping an arm around Sekh’s bare waist, his hand splayed on his lower belly, fingers idly stroking soft skin. “This crest- it was in Dalyria’s keep.”

Astarion hummed. “Is it for the… what was that house that dreadful drow mentioned?”

“ Duskryn .” Sekh chewed at his lip. Dalyria and the spawn were only about a two day travel by foot, if the map Sekh had could be trusted. Getting back to her was a more direct route then getting back to the entrance from the Szarr palace.

“And you know nothing about them?”

Sekh sighed. “Sadly no . My mother tried to teach me noble house histories, but I was shit at it. I never really cared, honestly.” He frowned. “I was more interested in whatever my father was concocting, or if mom would let me hold her sword.”

Astarion nuzzled into his neck, pressed a soft kiss to the tender skin. It was soothing. “Well then, seems you’ll have to play catch up.”

Sekh set the note down, content with Astarion holding him in the dark for a moment. “Maybe not. If we can just locate their home in the city, we can let ourselves in and look for Blurg. I don’t care much for their history- I just want him back.”

Sekh felt Astarion’s hand slide from his belly to his hip- bit back a little hiss as his cool fingers brushed over the wounds his nails had left. “I hurt you,” Astarion whispered, and Sekh only smiled.

“ I liked it .”

The vampire laughed, and Sekh decided he was allowed a few more minutes, just to be held like this.

Astarion shifted the weight on his back, glancing around the alley he was in. The dead drow was heavier than he had anticipated, and even with his ever growing vampiric strength, he was getting quite tired of carrying him.

After a more thorough search of his person- which Astarion had insisted on, as the dead had no use of things or information - Sekh had unlocked the door and crept into the- thankfully empty - hallway. The second floor had a rather large window at the end, which seemed their only option to get the body out of the tavern without having to drag him through the bar.

Astarion dared to shift his hold, support the body leaning onto his back with only one arm, and undid his cloak. It fell off him, revealing the body he had carried beneath , as he walked to the wall of a building, unceremoniously dropping Phet to the ground.

He paused to study the slumped body, before he gave it a little kick, forcing it to topple over onto its side. Better . Someone would find him when the city was bustling more, and there was no reason to think it was anything but a little bit of fun murder, probably over slave trade rivalries.

Astarion moved back to his cloak, tossed it over his shoulders and pulled his hood back up. Getting back into the tavern would require a bit more work. Unfortunately, he hadn’t even begun to develop the spider like climbing skills Dalyria had shown off to him, before they’d left the spawn. And while his bat transformation had indeed impressed her, she made her own feats seem so easy Astarion felt outdone.

He checked to ensure there was no one on the street, before he made his way out of the alley. He’d gone quite far from the tavern, and he’d have to retrace his steps to ensure he didn’t get lost. He couldn’t read a blasted word on any of the signs here- everything written twice, once in what he assumed was drowic , and then in undercommon.

Which, frankly, even though Sekh felt there were similarities to common, Astarion simply couldn’t see them.

He moved silently, keeping to the shadows. This , he was used to. Used to moving unseen in the trees at night, hunting for prey- or even among the city streets back in Baldur’s Gate, if there was word that perhaps someone needed to have their pretty heart stopped.

After walking for some time, thinking he’d gotten himself turned around, Astarion finally recognized his surroundings- the more open market way they had encountered upon first entering the city. While it had been bustling with life the previous day, it was desolate now- the city slumbering as much as any city could. Seemed even the slave trade had business hours .

He paused, watched as a male drow rounded a corner, leading a figure by a leash . Astarion recognized the multiple arms, the mandibles on its face- oh, what had Sekh called them?

He sucked at his tongue, trying to recall, finally landing on chitine . Yes, that was it. Seemed the poor thing hadn’t been sold the day prior.

The drow fastened the lead to a small hook protruding from the ground. Astarion noticed a line of them- seemed the city was ready to, at a moment’s notice, have plenty of hopeless souls on display for sale.

Astarion pivoted slightly, moving across the barren street. He didn’t try to hide his steps, and the drow turned around, as Astarion pulled his hood down.

The drow said something , but Astarion couldn’t understand a word of it. He wasn’t even sure if he could pick out that word- szarkai - that Sekh had been using for him.

It didn’t matter. Astarion wasn’t interested in whatever the man had to say. Wordlessly, he grasped one of his daggers under his cloak, moving with a grace that felt good . He embedded the knife in the drow’s belly, hand moving to clamp over his mouth, stifling his surprised shout.

Astarion twisted the knife, before he pulled it out, stabbed again . He could smell the blood as it dripped onto his hand, along the handle of his dagger, all down the front of the drow. The man began to sag, and Astarion pushed him back, watched him fall onto the ground, sprawling out as he writhed.

Astarion placed a foot on his chest, bent over, and in a clean motion slit his throat open, ear to ear. The drow gave a few desperate gurgles , before he went limp.

The vampire straightened, lifted his dagger and looked at it in the low pulsing street lights. He was beyond satiated, which made this body feel like such a waste - but he couldn’t help taking just a little taste .

He dragged his tongue along the side of the dagger. The drow’s blood was rich, much like the other- Phet’s - had been. Yet both had lacked a distinct something that Sekh’s blood had- a level of sweetness that wasn’t overpowering, but felt like an indulgence nonetheless.

Astarion didn’t believe one's intentions could flavor their blood- but it was comical that Sekh and his loving, bleeding heart were sweet .

He stowed the dagger, bent back over the corpse, feeling around until he found a small keyring. With it in hand, he turned, facing the chitine.

It was watching him with faceted eyes, a look of terror and yet resignation on its face. The look of someone broken to their fate.

It made Astarion’s stomach turn.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, even though he was sure it- he, she ? Astarion wasn’t sure- couldn’t understand him. He reached for the shackles on the chitine’s many arms, trying a few keys before he found the right one to free them. Once done, he released the collar around their neck, then tossed the keys carelessly onto the dead drow’s mutilated stomach.

The chitine inclined their head, and Astarion gestured with his hand away.

“Go,” he said, “ go on . No one is buying you today.” The chitine eyed Astarion for another moment, before they said something - the words interspaced with a bit of a click , almost like an accent.

Astarion waited until they began to move towards the shadows, the chitine seeming to disappear as soon as they found darkness.

He pulled his hood back up, moving quickly through the shadows himself, retracing his steps from earlier that day, until he found the tavern. With a glance around to ensure no one was watching, he took the form of a bat and flew up to the window, which had been propped open just enough for him to squeeze through.

Once inside he let the shape fade, feet landing silently on the floor as he moved to the door of he and Sekh’s room. It was unlocked, as Sekh had promised, and he opened it, found his drow sitting at the foot of the bed, one hand lifted, fingers curled with shadows dancing around them.

Ready to strike, if it was anyone but Astarion walking through that door.

Sekh relaxed as Astarion closed the door, hopping up to quickly lock it and wedge the chair back into place. “Any problems?”

Astarion shook his head, removing his clock and tossing it over the chair. Sekh gave him a relieved smile, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. Astarion felt his heart flutter over it.

It didn’t matter how many times Sekh did that, or the circumstances around the soft kisses- Astarion was sure he would always feel those cliche butterflies in his chest.

“If you want to get some rest,” Sekh offered, “I can stay up.”

Astarion frowned over that. The drow’s eyes were tired , he could see the shadows beneath them. They even lacked the light they always seemed to dance with. “You’re exhausted,” he countered, but Sekh tried to wave him off. Astarion’s frown grew. “ Sekh , I can see it on your face. I think we can both rest for a bit. No one is going to come charging in to murder us in our sleep.”

“You don’t know the Underdark,” Sekh countered, but Astarion only took his hand, reveled in how good it felt to have the drow’s warm fingers tangle with his.

“ Trust me , they would disturb me. And I do move faster than most, darling.” He pulled Sekh towards the bed, relieved when the drow followed. Astarion only took the time to remove his boots, before he crawled onto the bed, fully clothed. Not how he’d prefer it- but he did understand a bit of caution was warranted.

And frankly, being ambushed completely naked didn’t sound ideal. Not in this sense, anyway.

Sekh climbed into the bed as well, rolled onto his side and gathered Astarion up into his arms. The vampire sighed, face pressed into Sekh’s chest, his clavicle, letting his eyes close. The ache in his back from carrying around that damned corpse seemed to fade, as Sekh rubbed a hand along his spine.

Astarion swore this man was magical , in more ways than Sekh realized.

He ran his hand along Sekh’s hip, the subtle curve memorized already by his fingers. Astarion had hoped it would quell his mind’s racing, the familiar movement, the distraction of Sekh’s warmth, but it continued to race and race and race .

“Darling?” Sekh gave a quiet hm? , and Astarion rested his hand on his waist. “Would you do me a favor ?”

“What is it?” Sekh rolled slightly, moving onto his back, and Astarion let himself sprawl over his chest, folding his arm under his head and simply resting there.

“Tell me Yenna is safe.”

It had haunted them both, Astarion knew- the whole journey to Lolth’s Cradle. They hadn’t seen Rolan, Yenna, and Omeluum back to the entrance to the Szarr palace- there wasn’t time. And while it seemed quite unlikely that they would be ambushed again, it still left Astarion’s stomach in knots. Yenna was…

Well, the closest thing to a child he had. Not exactly a daughter, but Astarion still felt so protective of her. Paternal.

And it felt so good .

“Right about now,” Sekh whispered, “I imagine she’s sound asleep in Sorcerous Sundries. I bet Rolan tucked her in, and she protested with the fire of the hells that she wasn’t tired- and then she was asleep within minutes.”

Astarion chuckled. That would be like the girl- she seemed to think that since Sekh and Astarion needed less rest than most, she did as well. Didn’t seem to care that she was human, that she was growing.

Astarion closed his eyes then, focusing on the rhythm of Sekh’s tired heart. For a long moment they were both quiet, before Sekh offered, “I’m worried about Omeluum.”

It was almost comical, that Astarion could agree- the one that required the most worry was the mindflayer .

“Blurg… helps him, in some way. I think he helps keep him… himself .”

Astarion lifted his head. “Concerned he’ll revert to some more illithid ways?”

Sekh paused for a long time, before saying, very quietly, “If we can’t bring Blurg back, yes .”

The vampire didn’t argue- couldn’t , honestly. He had grown quite fond of the mindflayer- again, what was this ridiculous life of his?- and it was quite obvious that he and Blurg were… something . Even if they themselves didn’t recognize or acknowledge it, they mattered to each other, far more than others mattered to them.

And Astarion knew how easy it was, to slip into old ways, without an anchor.

He closed his eyes again, let himself begin to drift. He wasn’t sure if he would slip into a trance or sleep , honestly- he was exhausted enough that sleep might come easier. But as he was drifting, he found himself mumbling quietly, “I freed that chitine.”

Sekh’s only response was a bit of pressure from his hand, on the small of Astarion’s back.

The last thing Astarion was conscious of was whispering, “ no one deserves to be a slave ,” before the world faded to a peaceful, quiet black.

Sekh roused to Astairon still resting on his chest. The vampire was deathly still, his unconscious mind not bothering with the unnecessary breathing he often did while awake. Sekh had quickly gotten used to that.

Very carefully he managed to maneuver Astarion so he could climb from the bed. With no windows he had no concept of what time it was- but it sounded as if the city was bustling about.

He straightened his clothing, pulled his long hair back into a high ponytail to keep it off his face, then moved to the door, removing the chair and unlocking it. The click of the lock seemed to be what roused Astarion, because he heard the vampire mumble his name in his sleep addled voice.

“I’m just going downstairs,” Sekh said, looking over his shoulder. The vampire sat up slowly, his curls soft around his face. “When you’re awake come down?”

Astarion gave a nod, and Sekh let himself out of the room, heading down into the tavern. It wasn’t deserted , which he had expected- there were a few patrons at the tables.

“Well good morning,” the female barkeep said, when she noticed him, “ handsome .”

Sekh walked over to the bar, settling on a stool and flashing a less practiced smile at her. He had planned to continue his flirtatious charm- but he noticed she was nursing a steaming cup, and the scent of strong Underdark coffee hit him full force. A full, rich, dark scent that had earthy undertones.

He hadn’t had it in so long .

“I’ll sell you my first born for a cup of coffee,” Sekh joked, and she leaned over the bar a little, eyes sparkling . She really was rather pretty, same pale straw-blonde hair as her brother, skin hued more purple than Sekh’s dusky gray.

“Could just make a first born with me,” she offered with a wink, although it felt far less… forward, than any of her flirting the night before. As if she joked as well. “But I think coffee might be a bit of a low price for that.” She turned away, disappearing through a small door to a backroom.

Sekh glanced around the room again, noticed that while some of the patrons were most likely nursing an early cup of wine , it seemed that most of them were settled in for brunch . It was… domestic.

Sometimes Sekh could forget that not every second was hedonistic and violent, in the Underdark. He had spent so little time here since his youth that the blissful daily life seemed forgotten.

She returned a moment later, setting a cup on the bar in front of Sekh. He moved to reach for his pocket, and she waved him off. “ Please . You overpaid for that bottle of whiskey last night- I think coffee can be on the house.”

Sekh thanked her, cradling the cup in his hands and taking a sip despite the heat. It had been sweetened in a way Sekh wasn’t used to- a sugar like substance that could be made from drying and grinding up some of the common mushrooms in the Underdark.

It was how his father and mother always drank it- how it used to taste when he would steal sips from them, before they gave in and began just giving him his own.

It tasted like a home so long dead it was nothing but a fable.

He must have given something away on his face, before the other drow’s look softened. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sekh sighed, setting the cup down. “Just tasted one- nothing more.” She gave him a little smile then, sipping her own coffee.

“Does the ghost have a name?”

Sekh drummed his fingers on the cup. He almost wanted to talk to her, to let his guard down a bit- but he knew better. “Just a place.”

She nodded. “Well, I have a name, if you’re interested.” He quirked a brow at her, and her boldness seemed to falter under just a look- a bit of a flush rising on her cheeks. “Dezzrell. Dezz .”

“I think you know mine.”

She leaned her elbows on the bar then, watching him with an interest that seemed real . “Yes, but are you a full name sort of man, or are you more… intimate ?” Before Sekh could answer her eyes moved from his to look behind him , and Sekh glanced over his shoulder.

Astarion had seemed to materialize , looming at his shoulder like a phantom shadow. Sekh knew the vampire couldn’t understand anything he may have heard- but Dezz’s body language, her posture, the look in her eyes made her intentions rather clear.

And Astarion’s eyes made his own claim on Sekh quite clear as well.

Before Sekh could say another word, the door to the tavern was pushed open roughly, three drow men walking a line directly for the bar.

“ Dezz ,” one said, his white hair half shaved, showing tattoos up along his skull , “Was Phet’in here last night?”

The barkeep straightened up, and Sekh assumed these must be some of the dead drow’s associates. And either they realized he was missing-

Or they found his body.

“Yeah, drunk as ever,” she said, folding her arms. The sweetness she had aimed at Sekh was distinctly missing now. “Whatever trouble you all want, I don’t .”

Another drow pushed forward, nearly shoving his comrade to the ground. He was large , wide shoulders and a well muscled torso and arms- noticeably large , for a drow, if Sekh was honest. He had bits of armor strapped to his shoulders and chest- otherwise seemed quite content in just his pants, boots, and a large axe strapped to his back. He cut a terrifying silhouette.

He slammed a closed fist on the bar- and Sekh heard the wood creak , as if it threatened to splinter. The man seemed unphased, even as the skin on his knuckles cracked. “Phet’s dead , and we know he was spending his nights here . So talk, elg’caress , or I’ll pluck that pretty tongue of yours right out of that whore mouth.”

He reached out with his other hand, wrapped it around Dezz’s bicep , jerking her hard against the bar, so it dug into her belly. To her credit, she held his stare firm , mouth pressed into a line. If she was scared, she wasn’t showing it.

Sekh was up quickly, taking the few steps to the larger drow and clutching his arm with his left hand, squeezing tightly . The man turned his red eyes to Sekh, face set in a deep scowl. “Hands off,” Sekh said.

The man laughed . It was quite clear he wasn’t afraid of Sekh, considering his size. “What are you going to do, little maggot?” The drow released Dezz, instead grasped Sekh by the collar of his shirt, jerking him in close . His breath was hot, reeked of cheap wine still.

Sekh dug his nails into the man’s bare arm, the shadows on his face shifting . They crawled along his arm, his hand, and twisted around the man’s arm, tightening in a vice hold. The drow jerked back, grunting at the pain, and Sekh got his foot up against his belly, launched himself back with enough force that the drow lost his hold on his shirt.

Sekh kept his hand raised, shadows swarming around it- could feel the shadows moving all over him.

“I’ll rend you limb from limb,” he hissed, “I’ve taken men far bigger than you.”

The not-so-subtle insult had the large drow growling, looking ready to charge. One of his comrades grabbed him by the arm, trying to calm him down.

“Enough!” Dezz yelled, pointing her stare at the three that had entered. “Phet left drunk as sin last night, same as always. Wherever he wandered off to isn’t my business . Now get out before you ruin everyone’s morning.”

The three drow glared, before turning, leaving in just as much of a huff as they entered. Sekh relaxed his shoulders, letting go of his grip on the shadows, as Astarion moved to his side, taking his arm and looking at it intently , as if the large drow may have hurt him.

Sekh didn’t even think he’d bruise.

“I’m fine,” Sekh whispered, in common, and Astarion frowned, but didn’t push.

Instead, he asked, “What did you say to him? He was rather riled up .”

At that, Sekh grinned . “I told him I’ve taken men larger than him.”

Astarion laughed loudly at that. “By the hells scaring him and shaming his cock? You win my heart everyday, pet.”

Sekh grinned, but before he could speak he heard in rather well practiced common, “I think maybe we should talk.”

Sekh glanced over, and realized it had been Dezz . She was looking at him with a skeptical stare- and gods , he and Astarion hadn’t even tried to hide how they were speaking.

Shit .

Dezz glanced around the tavern, before she motioned for Sekh and Astarion to come around the bar. Sekh gave a nod to Astarion, led him around the structure, as Dezz opened a door that led to a backroom.

It was a mix of a half kitchenette and storage. There was a hatch that led to what Sekh assumed was a basement.

Dezz hopped up onto a barrel, folding her arms. Sekh and Astarion remained standing, as Sekh said, “You didn’t tell them their friend was with us.”

“No. I didn’t.” She paused, before adding, “Your friend isn’t a szarkai, is he?”

To his credit, Astarion kept his lips shut tightly , even though he could now understand the conversation. He was trusting Sekh to lead this. Sekh appreciated that.

“No,” he finally said, “he’s not. He’s… even more fearsome.” Sekh reached up, not looking back at Astarion, tipped his chin up slightly. Astarion flashed a very fang filled smile, and Dezz’s spine went rigid.

“Lolth preserve me,” she whispered, “a vampire ?”

“Don’t worry darling, I won’t bite without asking. Unless, of course, I’m aiming to kill you. Which it seems we’re not .” He glanced at Sekh, who gave him a nod. “See? You’re nice and safe .”

Dezz laughed bitterly. “ Safe ? Sure, alright. You saw the scene those jaluks made sober . I take it Phet’in is dead- and good riddance - by your hand. They’ll be back once they find out if they don’t know already.”

“Who are they?” Sekh asked.

“Slave trading ring- was five of them, a small company. Less people to split the profits with. Phet’in let slip last night that they were down to four. I guess they lost one.”

Sekh gritted his teeth, and without even thinking said in a low voice, “He’s quite dead, I can assure you.”

Dezz studied him, before simply nodding. “Better off. Listen, I don’t know what you’re really doing here, but you’re only making trouble for yourself. And considering that your friend is definitely a surface dweller, you should get out while you can.”

“We’re looking for someone,” Sekh said, “A hobgoblin. Phet’in and his… friends took him hostage. Sold him to the Duskryns. We’re here to bring him home.”

Dezz hopped off the barrel then, walked up to Sekh, pulling herself to her full height. She had about an inch on him. Oddly, she smelled like night orchids. “I can tell you how to get to see the Duskryns- but I need something from you first.”

“What?”

“Kill the rest of those bastards.”

“ Done .” Astarion and Sekh spoke at the same time, before they turned to each other, offering up silly little smiles- the kind they got when they were in perfect sync.

Dezz rolled her eyes. “Maybe two things- stop being so in love . My ego is bruised enough that I didn’t see it before and I tried to bed you both .”

“Both of us?” Astarion asked, looking at Sekh.

“She might have offered to keep you company too.” Astarion chuckled, and Dezz brushed her free hair back, looking embarrassed .

“Don’t give me that look . I thought you were szarkai- and if I mothered one myself, that would have the Duskryns running to snatch them up, and in turn welcoming my brother and I into safety .” She shifted awkwardly. “Safety is priceless here.”

Sekh understood. He didn’t fault her for that.

“I have to ask,” Astarion cut in, “simply because it’s so nice to finally understand what someone is saying- where did you learn common, dear? You speak quite nicely.”

Sekh watched color rise to Dezz’s cheeks. A compliment from Astarion could do that, he knew . “I’ve learned over the past ten years or so from the traders and slavers that breeze through. Some of them trade on the surface as well. They’re usually willing to entertain my requests for a free drink or two. That and practice . Brindell- my younger brother- knows it as well. We practice when we’re not out with the patrons.”

“But why?” Sekh asked.

Dezz sighed. “We thought maybe someday we’d get out of here. We do… alright , but… the Underdark can be just as vile as some surface dwellers boast about. It’s always been our home but… well, we want to be prepared if something better comes along.”

Sekh understood, all too well. It was home to him too- or, had been. Even in the many years he stayed away.

Home now felt very different.

“I promised to tell you how to get to the Duskryns,” she said, moving away from them, towards the kitchenette. Sekh watched her lift a kettle, pour steaming water through a coned filter- and the rich smell of coffee filled the room. “And I keep my promises. Sit down- do you have a map?”

Sekh and Astarion passed the rest of the day in the cramped little back room of the tavern, studying the map Dezz had marked for them. At one point her brother, Brindell, opened the hatch and appeared from the basement, which Sekh quickly learned were their living quarters.

The Duskryn’s house was at the center of the city. She informed them that they were entertaining slavers currently- looking to bulk up the house staff . She wasn’t sure why , but she presumed they were vying for a higher house ranking, and wanted to make a show of their abundance, their glory.

Calling hours were in the eve, to show stock or offer bids and skills for personal hunting missions. So long as they even looked like they could offer either, they could walk right in. From there, they were on their own.

They memorized the streets around the house, all the different possible exits to the city. Sekh knew the moment they had Blurg, they would need to leave, and fast . They’d have to put as much distance between them and Lolth’s Cradle as possible.

When the nightlife began to pick up, they made for their exit. Dezz stopped them before they left, while Brindell tended the bar, and walked outside with them. “Try not to get yourselves killed,” she whispered in common, “I almost think I’m rather fond of you.” Sekh smiled, and she glanced away, a flush creeping up her cheeks. “Oh don’t smile like that, it’s truly not fair.”

“Don’t lead the lady on Sekh’met ,” Astarion murmured, “or I might just get jealous .”

Sekh huffed- “it was just a smile . Gods above Astarion.”

“A rather charming smile, pet.”

Dezz waved them off. “By Lolth’s silks just go - and don’t forget you promised me some dead bodies.”

A promise they intended to keep. They took their leave, moving into the busier streets, dodging residents on their way to the bars, moving towards the heart of the city. Once in sight, the Duskryn house was quite recognizable- sizably huge, even compared to the extravagant buildings surrounding it.

As promised, the front doors were left wide open, two guards standing firm. The house crest was stamped into their chest plates, stained a deep red.

As they climbed the steps, Sekh pulled the hood of his cloak down, offering a rather deep half bow to the guards. Respect, he knew, even if false, would get him places. Especially considering both guards were women.

“I’m here to offer my services to the matron,” he said, “if she’d be willing to listen.”

The guards looked bored . “Quite the line in there, we were told to start turning you lot away. Try tomorrow night- the matron only has so many hours in her night.”

Sekh dug into his pocket, pulled out the now folded purchase note he had taken from Phet’in’s body. “She’s purchased from me already- and quite happily. I simply want to offer her my personal services for any of her needs.”

One of the guards snorted a laugh, quite obviously taking the offer in a different way . Sekh didn’t care- whatever got them in the door.

“She has been insatiable,” the guard who laughed muttered. “Damn near killed that courtesan with how thoroughly she used him last night. I say let him in. Return sellers are usually welcome.”

The first guard barely looked at the note Sekh held- her eyes caught the wax seal, and it seemed to be enough. She jerked her head to the open door, and Sekh flashed his most charming smile, gave another bow, and led Astarion inside.

The entrance foyer was bustling- guards and staff alike directing the mess of slavers and their stock .

Sekh didn’t need to see Astarion’s face to know he was glaring with those gorgeous eyes, imagining ripping each and every one not in chains in half. Sekh would gladly attend that show.

They blended in along the far wall, moving with the masses, Sekh trying to take stock of the room’s inhabitants and the many exits. He presumed Blurg would still be kept below, where new slaves were brought in for training and softening. He wouldn’t be out and about yet.

They just needed to find a way below.

They cut from the group into a dark hallway, lit by sconces shaped like spiders, holding larger tapered candles. Everyone seemed too focused on their own interests to notice or care.

Sekh paused at each door, and Astarion leaned against them, closing his eyes and listening . The first few held voices- some laughing, some softly talking -

And some were definitely preoccupied in a more carnal sense.

Towards the end one finally sounded silent, and Astarion curled his fingers, beckoning Sekh closer to it. Sekh tried the handle and found it unlocked . Wordlessly, the two slipped inside.

It appeared to be a study- a large desk set in the center, a fireplace crackling in the back. If it was lit, then someone was expecting to come back.

Sekh wasn’t exactly sure what they were looking for. The entrance to the dungeons- he couldn’t fathom calling them anything else- wouldn’t be here . But they were operating blind, and had little else to go on.

The desktop was littered in papers, all looking as if they awaited signature and seal. He doubted this was the house matron’s study- it would have been far grander- but another bloodkin who perhaps dealt with the coin and coffer daily runnings. Or at least the trade in flesh and blood.

Astarion pulled open a drawer, rummaging through it without a care- actually tossing things onto the floor. He didn’t seem bothered by the idea of someone noticing there had been a bit of a break in.

“What am I even looking for, darling?” he asked, and Sekh just shrugged.

“ Anything . Keys- the dungeons would be locked. You won’t be able to read any of these notes- so don’t bother.”

Astarion nodded, pulling open a lower drawer, fishing around. He tossed out a few books, followed by a small leather journal- small enough to fit into a deep pocket.

Sekh snatched it off the floor, thinking perhaps it was purchase records- and again, confirming that Blurg was still here wasn’t off the table. He flipped it open to the center, brow furrowing as he recognized house names .

There were dates scribbled next to them- notes, as well, next to names. Strange little things- next to a name that only had a few year date range Sekh saw, dropped and shattered skull .

A cause of death .

He flipped a few more pages, noticing that atop each page Srune’Lett was now scribbled. It looked… familiar .

He was about to close the journal, when he noticed a long list of names, all having the same date next to them- a death date, perhaps.

Towards the bottom he paused, felt his blood running to ice.

Kor’zette .

“Darling?” Sekh didn’t glance up at Astarion’s voice, eyes still locked on the page. Below the family name were three names, all with a death date to match the entire list.

Sekh’lynne.

Metias.

Sekh’met.

“Sekh?” Sekh finally glanced up, and Astarion’s stare turned worried . “Darling, what is it?”

Sekh swallowed the lump in his throat, turning the journal and pointing to the names he knew Astarion couldn’t read. “This is a… list. I think of houses, noble or not- and… possibly every person ever in their employ. Possibly even slaves. And this ,” he said, tapping at the family name Kor’zette , “is my family name.”

Astarion glanced at the page, before turning his stare back to Sekh.

“This is my mother,” Sekh said, tapping her name, “and my father.” Another tap. A breath, and then- “and me .”

Astarion reached out, gently held his hands against Sekh’s, steadying them. Sekh hadn’t even realized they were shaking.

“Do you know what this means?” the drow asked, “Astarion… this might give me answers as to why they were killed- who killed them .”

“You always said it was just infighting between house sisters,” Astarion said. He was speaking carefully . Sekh didn’t notice.

“Yes but I couldn’t even remember the house that employed them. Gods, I blocked so much of it out- but with this …”

He trailed off, and Astarion closed the journal carefully in his hands. “Focus on me, Sekh. We need to remember why we’re here .”

Sekh swallowed, trying to calm his racing heart. Yes, Astarion had a point. They needed to find Blurg- he didn’t have time to sit here and consider what truths he might have just stumbled upon. They would have to wait.

Sekh pocketed the small journal, and Astarion squeezed his free hand, a small grounding gesture, before turning back to the now ransacked desk. Before either could consider if it was worth continuing to look through, boisterous voices came nearly echoing through the door, accompanied by heavy footsteps.

There wasn’t time to move before the door was thrown open- and a very familiar, large set drow walked in, flanked by his two comrades. The three stopped when they saw Sekh and Astarion, surrounded by the mess they had made of the study.

“What have we here?” the large drow asked, as one of the others pulled the door shut. “Shouldn’t be in here without an invitation boys.”

Astarion glanced at Sekh, not understanding what the man was saying- but the vampire’s question was clear, and didn’t hinge on whatever madness the drow spoke.

Can we kill them now?

Sekh grinned and gave a nod. Astarion leapt up onto the desk at that, plucking a dagger from his thigh and throwing it before the others could move. He hit his mark on one of the slender built drow- embedding it directly in his shoulder and jerking him back a step.

The room turned to chaos, after that. Sekh drew his short sword, running around the desk, lifting it and bracing the flat with his other hand as the larger drow hefted his axe and leapt, trying to bury down Sekh’s center.

He was shoved back a few steps, boots sliding along the carpet and littered papers. The sheer force behind the man was terrifying. Sekh curled his fingers, shot a web of shadows at him, but unlike in the tavern the man seemed unphased as they coiled around one of his arms, squeezing tightly.

His eyes were burning . Sekh wondered if he had taken something- or if he had just finally realized his other associate was dead by he and Astarion’s hand.

The axe slammed down on the ground, cutting into carpet and chipping the stone floor beneath. Sekh hopped back again, as in the distance he watched Astarion moving with a cat-like grace, dodging the other two’s slim swords with an immortal ease.

He could handle himself. Sekh needed to focus .

“Gonna enjoy chopping you to bits,” the drow grunted, swinging his axe wildly. It embedded in one of the many wooden bookcases within the room. “Found Phet’in earlier- it was you , wasn’t it?”

He pulled the axe free, and Sekh positively grinned . “Team effort, really.”

The drow shouted, throwing himself at Sekh. Sekh managed to avoid his axe, but the man’s bulk still slammed into him, knocking him down onto the ground. His head snapped back, skull smashing into the ornate border around the fireplace, on the floor.

His ears rang, the room spinning as for a moment everything went black. He sucked in a breath, forced himself to stay conscious , and rolled almost feebly to his side, missing the drow’s boot stomping down on his neck.

“You look good on the ground,” the drow crooned, cocking his head. His stare was hungry- a blood thirst and flesh lust that made Sekh’s spine chill. “Maybe when you’re bleeding out I’ll carve a new whole in you, just to fuck .”

Sekh threw himself awkwardly at the drow, leaving his sword abandoned. He grasped at his ankle with his right hand, let the chill in his spine turn to weave , and poured necrotic magic into the man. The drow yelped , and Sekh could imagine the lovely green of rot creeping up his veins.

Sekh lifted his other hand, took advantage of the man’s surprise and let loose his shadows. This time the drow was knocked off his feet, went crashing back into the desk, crushing it . It splintered down the middle with an awful booming crack .

Sekh pushed himself up, grasping his sword, as the drow floundered to regain his balance. “Fucking bastard !” He roared, before he pushed himself up. Sekh could see a few splinters of wood, embedded in one arm, blood beginning to trickle down towards the man’s wrist.

The drow went to move, but stumbled forward, as one of his smaller companions was thrown into him. He staggered, the other drow dead weight and- Sekh realized as the body slumped to the floor unmoving- very, very dead.

The sheer amount of blood that had seeped into his shirt from his chest, his belly, was obscene.

The larger drow turned then, leveling his glare at Astarion, who was dodging rapid swings of the remaining slender drow’s sword, slowly moving back towards another bookcase. The behemoth raised his axe with both hands, and Sekh realized he was going to throw it.

“Astarion!” he yelled, as he ran for the drow, leapt up and grabbed at his arms. The man still got his axe off, but Sekh’s weight skewed his throw, and Astarion dropped to the ground as it collided with the bookcase instead.

With a feral roar the drow jerked Sekh off of his back, sent him careening back against the wall. He smacked against it limply, crumpling down onto the floor, tasting blood from where he’d bitten his cheek on impact.

He lifted his head, but he was seeing double. He leaned his head back against the wall, and it felt wet, sticky , something matting into his hair. He tried to tell his body to move, but he felt as if he was limp skin and melted bone, unable to lift himself.

The large drow stomped over, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifted him and pinned him to the wall. He was nearly snarling, eyes looking rabid, as he shoved a thick thigh between Sekh’s legs, to help hold him up-

And as he did, his snarl turned into a hideous grin . “Well,” he mused, “maybe I won’t need to cut a new hole to fuck you after all, elg’caress .” He shook Sekh once, and Sekh’s head smacked the wall again. His vision went black for one, two breaths. “Stay with me whore , I think I want you conscious while I tear you apart.”

The drow pivoted, tossing Sekh as if he weighed nothing, sending him crashing into the remains of the desk. Sekh felt his skin tearing on the wood splinters, was vaguely aware of his name, being shouted from somewhere .

He tried to lift his head, only to feel two hands grasping his cloak, the back of his shirt, hoisting him up and tossing him to the ground, back onto his back.

His vision focused for a moment, just long enough to see Astarion running at the large drow- but gods , the behemoth of a man delivered a punch to his gut that had him staggering, as the remaining drow dropped his sword, locked his arm around Astarion’s neck and jerked him back, until he fell to his knees.

“I think he should watch ,” the large drow said, studying Sekh, sprawled on the ground. “You open your legs for him like a good little girl? Pathetic to bed with fucking iblith .” The man palmed at his groin, hips rocking against himself in sheer joy as Sekh tried to lift himself up, only to collapse back to the floor.

Astarion grasped at the drow’s arm around his neck, claws digging in , but the man holding him squeezed harder , kneed him in the center of his back.

The large drow dropped down onto Sekh, stradling one of his thighs as he pushed the other leg, his hand gripping his thigh and squeezing . “You don’t know who we are,” he vented, those red eyes still wild - they would focus for a moment because Sekh’s vision went back to double . His head was pounding unlike it ever had, since the tadpole’s death . “We’re in good with the Duskryn’s now- told ‘em all about the pretty little things we almost brought them. A fucking tiefling would have had the matron arching in her damn throne.”

Sekh’s throat felt thick, nearly shut. Breathing was hard . But he was conscious enough to know the drow was referencing Rolan .

“And that tiny little human . Fucking thing got me with her crossbow, but she would have fetched some pretty coin. I’ll remember her face forever .”

Sekh grunted, screaming at himself internally. That was Yenna, Yenna, Yenna - his Yenna, his child -

With a pained cry, Sekh jerked his arm up, body lifting strictly from his abdominal muscles, right hand curling around the drow’s throat. Sekh bared his teeth, let his magic course into the other drow’s body, watched the way it made his veins bulge, blacken .

“Don’t you touch Yenna,” he snarled, without even realizing he’d slipped back to common. At the mere mention of the girl’s name, Astarion arched his shoulders back with such force that it finally dislodged the other drow’s hold on him.

The vampire leapt onto the large drow, dragged him off of Sekh’s body, severing the connection. Sekh slumped forward, watched as Astarion curled his fingers, bared his claws. With a shout he drove them down, one piercing directly into one of the drow’s eyes, rupturing it.

The man gave a shriek, thrashed, but Astarion was holding him down with an animalistic strength, his other hand slamming down into his chest, claws ripping through his shirt, piercing his skin. He drew back from his chest, only to slam down again, tearing at cloth, flesh, ripping him open .

Sekh forced himself to stand, swaying on his feet. The other drow was motionless, seeming in sheer shock as he watched Astarion tear into his comrade, both hands now ripping into his chest, as he began to go limp.

Sekh grit his teeth and moved to the other drow, grabbing him by the throat, letting him feel how his fingers could go cold as death.

“See that?” Sekh asked, throat aching with each word. “I’ll let him do worse if you don’t tell me how to get into the fucking dungeons of this gods forsaken home.”

There was a thunderous crack , and Sekh realized Astarion had gotten both his hands into the man’s chest cavity, and pulled his fucking ribcage open with sheer force.

The drow in Sekh’s hold trembled, smelled of terrified sweat and piss. Sekh squeezed at his throat, roared “ tell me! ” in a voice that felt earth shattering.

“Two h-halls to the left,” he managed, swallowing thickly against Sekh’s palm. “ Shit he’s tearing him apart.”

Sekh jerked the man’s neck, cut off his air for a moment, forced his attention away from Astarion and the now dead drow.

“There’s a-a-an ornate red d-d- door .”

Sekh smiled then, as Astarion finally lifted off the large drow, turned around to face them. He was panting, his pupils nothing but the smallest pin pricks of black. His was coated in blood and gore up to his elbows , looked like the feral monsters that could riddle a childhood fable.

Sekh locked his stare with Astarion for a moment, before he shoved the remaining drow towards him. The drow stumbled a few steps. “He’s all yours, my love.”

Astarion grabbed the man, locked an arm around his head, and before the drow could even breath a shriek into the air, snapped his neck and left him to crumble onto the ground.

Suddenly, the room was bathed in silence . Silence except for Sekh’s ragged breaths. He teetered a little, swaying to the side, and Astarion rushed over, braced an arm around him and held him upright. “Stay with me,” the vampire said, eyes still nothing but red, red, red .

“I’m- fine ,” Sekh managed, knowing it was a lie . But he didn’t have time not to be fine . “Hit my-head… s’all…”

He slumped against Astarion then, for a moment the room bursting into black . It snapped back to life a breath later, when he heard Astarion call his name in a tone that was sheer terror .

Sekh took a deep breath, ignoring the way his head pounded with it. “I’m here,” he managed, beginning to support himself. “We need to go- someone would have heard that.”

Astarion’s brows were knitted with worry, but he didn’t argue. There was, after all, no argument . Sekh was right.

The vampire released his hold on Sekh, tore his own cloak off and used it to wipe some of the gore from his arms. He was still streaked with blood, some of it caked into his claws, but it would do.

Sekh moved for the door, his legs feeling weak but not giving out. If he kept moving, he thought he would stay conscious. He grabbed the door, opened it a crack- was relieved to see the hall was deserted. Even with all the noise they’d made, perhaps the sheer commotion of the house was enough to mask it- at least for a few minutes.

Astarion moved up behind him, and Sekh opened the door fully, heading into the hallway. “Two halls over, red door,” he mumbled, and Astarion only gave him a nod, hovering very close in case he were to begin to grow unsteady.

Sekh was relieved when they found the aforementioned door- a large, heavy wooden thing painted in a red like stale blood, the Duskryn family crest adoring it in shining black gems.

It was, stupidly , unlocked. Open for the world. The house’s arrogance.

Astarion opened it, ushering Sekh inside. They were met with a winding set of steep stone stairs- narrow enough that they had to walk one at a time. Astarion slipped past Sekh, moving in front of him- a silent safety net, should Sekh lose his footing.

By the time they reached the floor- which was nothing but cold stones- Sekh wasn’t sure how many times they had spiraled . It felt like they were leagues below the realms.

The large area was open, small cells all lined up in neat rows. About half of them were occupied, to Sekh’s dismay. They were all fellow Underdark dwellers- hobgoblins, chitines, a few deep gnomes.

Sekh’s stomach turned.

He had to rush to keep up with Astarion, who was moving quickly down the first line of cells, glancing in each cell. The room was spinning a little, but Sekh pushed through it.

Astarion paused at a cell, just as Sekh caught up- and there was Blurg, sitting rather calmly in the center. He glanced up, and those eyes lit up as he jumped to his feet, rushing to the bars.

“My friends, you are a glorious sight,” he said. Sekh was glad to see he seemed rather uninjured- some bruising and a healing cut along his cheek- but otherwise in one piece. Thank the gods .

“We’ll get you out of here,” Sekh said, as Astarion was already fiddling with the lock. It took him only about thirty seconds to get it to click open, and Sekh pulled the cell door open, grabbing Blurg and hauling him out.

The hobgoblin stumbled a moment, before he had his thick arms around Sekh, squeezing him quite tightly . “I knew you would come for me,” he said, “tell me- Omeluum- is it well?”

“I’m sure it’s relaxing as we speak with whatever an illithid can tolerate to drink,” Astarion said, “however now isn’t the time to catch up . We need to…go.” He glanced around again, and Sekh saw the fissures in his eyes, the cracks at seeing so many others in chains.

“How quickly can you pick thirty locks?” Sekh asked, leaning more heavily on Blurg. He was starting to see spots in his vision. He thought for a moment he might go limp, but there was a sudden tightening in his head, a sharp ache that made him focus.

And a whisper, in twin voices, not yet, sweetling.

Syl . Sekh focused back on Astarion, whose only answer was to get to work.

By the time Astarion had unlocked each occupied cell, Sekh swore Blurg was supporting more of his weight than he was himself. Thankfully his colleague didn’t seem to mind, must have gotten a look at the bloodied, matted mess that was the back of Sekh’s head, and simply locked an arm around his waist.

The dungeon felt chaotic, the now freed slaves rushing about, unsure what to do. Astarion seemed to be trying to calm them- but considering that he couldn’t speak undercommon, and he was caked in drying blood, it wasn’t going well.

Sekh forced himself to straighten, hold his own weight, as he yelled “ Listen !” All eyes turned to him. “We need an exit , and not the bloody front door. Does anyone know of another way out?”

A deep gnome pushed her way forward, nodding. “I do- there’s a door back by the kitchens- it's for staff and such. Came through it a few times when they tried to get me to cook .”

Sekh nodded, motioning her forward. “Okay. The stairs are narrow, so we have to go in a line . Astarion,” the vampire turned his head, and Sekh switched back to common, “You lead, she’ll be behind you. The rest of us will follow.”

The vampire only nodded, and Sekh relayed as much to the rest of the room, before they were all moving for the stairs. Sekh’s body ached with each step he climbed, but he pushed through it, he and Blurg a few bodies back from Astarion and the deep gnome. As they reached the top, they could hear commotion- thankfully, not directly in front of the door, but close.

Sekh assumed the bodies he and Astarion had left had been discovered.

There was no time for stealth - all they could do was shove the door open and run . They wove through hallways, burst into the kitchen- terrifying the staff that was working- not slaves, but employed drow- as they hurdled for the large doors.

Once outside, it was chaos- a free-for-all. But the moment his feet hit the stone roads, Sekh was pivoting, grabbing Blurg by the wrist and hauling him towards Astarion.

This part, they had planned for.

They would exit the city to the west, loop around it within the underbrush, using it as cover, and make their way east, towards Dalyria. They could reach the spawn faster than they could reach the entrance to the Szarr palace, and they would be safe there .

Sekh would almost love to see Lolth’s pets take on over a hundred vampires.

They ran until Sekh’s lungs burned so badly he could barely stand it. He was panting heavily, his vision blurred- only able to move in a straight line because Astarion had taken his hand, was leading him .

They broke the city line without being followed- the erupting chaos of all the freed slaves had been enough to keep the house guards occupied. Their pace slowed as they entered the brush, and Blurg quickly pushed his way in front of Astarion, guiding the vampire away from a rather poisonous patch of mushrooms that he had been set to trample through.

It took hours to scale around the city, to get back on the correct path and direction. By the time they were finally leaving the large flora growths, moving instead of uneven land, Sekh was going numb. His vision had gone to pure black multiple times, but each time he heard Syl in his head, urging him on, cooing at him that he just needed to hold out a little longer, just a few more steps .

He stumbled, hadn’t even felt that he hadn’t lifted his foot fully. He dropped down hard on a knee, gritting his teeth, as Astarion pivoted on his toes, was only half a step away. The vampire dropped down to him, braced him at his biceps- looked like he was saying something.

Maybe it was Sekh’s name?

Sekh wasn’t sure- but it sounded alarmed- and then terrified, as Sekh pitched forward, face pressing into Astarion’s chest.

And then there was nothing at all.

Astarion paced uneasily, walking half circles around the bed. He’d reach the wall, turn, move back again- had been at this for hours now. He didn’t know what else to do .

The trek back to Dalyria had been agonizing. Sekh had been in and out of consciousness most of it- in the end, Astarion had had to carry him, on his back, the drow unable to hold his own weight. He felt limp as a corpse, by the time the keep had been in sight.

And, half a day later, he was still unconscious. He was breathing , Astarion could see it- and he could hear his pulse, a weak, soft thing- nothing like the usual pounding of his heart and blood.

It was maddening, to feel so useless. He hadn’t been able to do a damned thing, while Dalyria patched Sekh up. Had only been able to carry him to bed, and then wait .

He was not a patient man.

He turned, went to pace around the bed again, when he heard the subtle rustling of sheets. He glanced at the bed, noticed Sekh had moved his head a little, one of his hands having popped out from the blanket, rubbing at his forehead. And, a moment later, those startling eyes opened.

Astarion felt his heart leap up into his throat. He nearly jumped onto the bed, bracing his hands on either side of Sekh’s shoulders, leaning down to get a look at him.

Sekh stared up at him, eyes hazy for a moment, before he said in a raw voice, “You’re staring.”

Astarion wanted to kiss him breathless. He wanted to smack him until he was unconscious again.

Frankly, he wanted to cry.

“I could kill you,” he said, feeling the corners of his eyes growing wet. He tried to blink it away. His voice had trembled with the words.

Sekh gave a slow smile. “Please don’t- feels like someone already tried to.” Astarion pushed himself up, sat next to Sekh as the drow slowly sat up. He reached out, braced a hand on his back to keep him upright, as Sekh grimaced. “Feels like the tadpole came back and burrowed its way into- and then out of - my head.”

Astarion shifted closer, his arm sliding around Sekh’s back now, guiding him to lean his shoulder against his chest. “You scared me,” Astarion whispered, “you felt dead on my back.”

Sekh inhaled, seemed to be trying to fully regain his thoughts still. “Sorry,” he managed, as Astarion’s other hand reached up, gently stroked his hair. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

Astarion chuckled. Gods it was so good to hear that sass . “I wouldn’t expect anything different, my love.” Astarion rubbed his back slowly, felt Sekh relaxing a bit against him. “You should lay back down.”

Sekh didn’t move, mumbled only if you lay with me , into Astarion’s chest. The elf rolled his eyes, before he carefully guided Sekh back down to the pillows. Once he had, he climbed over him, got himself under the blanket, took the drow back into his arms and nestled him beneath his chin, against his chest.

“Usually we’re reversed,” Sekh mused, and Astarion laughed again.

“I’ll allow the change this one time . But don’t get too many little ideas, darling.” Astarion gave him a gentle squeeze, loving that- even though Sekh was exhausted and obviously weak in the moment- that he felt solid, in his arms.

The silence stretched, and Astarion began to think Sekh had drifted off again. Just when he thought perhaps he might as well, Sekh whispered, “Blurg?”

“Off being friendly with Dal. Honestly, I think he’s quite smitten. Best not tell Omeluum.”

Sekh laughed, the sound ending in a groan. Astarion imagined it made his skull pound. “He’s in good hands, then.”

Astarion gave a little nod. He rubbed his hand along Sekh’s spine, felt the drow give a pleased little exhale against his neck. “I never told you,” Astarion mused softly, “about what she did for me, did I?” Sekh grumbled wordlessly, and Astarion pulled him even closer. “Shortly after… Cazador turned her, he locked me in that tomb. And when I came out, a year later- she was there.” He took a breath, trying not to remember the months of cold isolation, just wanting to acknowledge they existed . “I was a husk, and she brought me back. Cleaned me up, forced me to feed- even if it was just a few rats that Cazador had thrown to her. I wonder if perhaps I would have truly died, had there not been someone there when I came out.”

Astarion felt Sekh’s hand, finding his waist, resting there.

“The other spawn weren’t there- they hadn’t been turned yet. They never saw… that . They never saw his cruelty to that level. Sometimes I… I hope that was why they believed me to be so… complacent.”

Astarion felt Sekh’s lips, press to his throat, very softly. A half kiss, half just touch. Probably all the man could muster, with his energy.

“I never told them about that- hells , you’re the only one I ever spoke to, about it.” Astarion held tightly, let his legs tangle with Sekh’s. “You leave me open , Sekh. Just remember that…” Astarion paused, his voice catching. Gods dammit . “That I’d be locked back in that tomb, if I ever lost you.”

Sekh gripped his waist gently. When he spoke, his voice was a wisp, but it still tangled into Astarion’s chest, wove its way into his ribs.

“I love you too, Astarion.”

It had taken a few more days, before they were able to make the trek back to the Szarr palace entrance. Thankfully, when they finally reached the surface, night had freshly fallen.

Sekh and Astarion saw Blurg off to the Lodge, where the hobgoblin actually wrapped his thick arms around Omeluum in a tight hug. The mindflayer seemed unsure what to do, before settling on resting one of its large hands on Blurg’s back, looking at him with a warmth in those yellow eyes.

When they made it to Sorcerous Sundries, Yenna had run at full force towards them, jumped into Astarion’s arms and clung tightly to him. He spun her around, face pressed into her hair, clutching her so tightly one would think he believed she could dissipate into thin air, if he let her go.

He refused to put her down, even as Rolan gathered him up, held his chin and kissed him. When he did the same to Sekh, Astarion heard him clearly mumbling that the drow was an idiot and had taken years off his life. He seemed quite unwilling to let Sekh go, despite complaining.

The walk home was leisurely, both Sekh and Astarion finding comfort in the life of Baldur’s Gate’s streets at night. Finding relief in familiar faces, familiar streets, taverns.

Walking into their home , though, was one of the most amazing feelings. Despite that the night was young, there wasn’t a single complaint as all three made their way up the stairs. Astarion made no mention of leaving for a hunt , and Sekh didn’t push him, this time.

Frankly, all they wanted was to sleep in the safety of their own bed, finally .

They fell asleep, truly to sleep , in a tangled mess- Yenna between them, holding onto Astarion, her legs tangled with Sekh’s, as the drow had an arm over both of them. They drifted into peace, finally, after what felt like lifetimes, with everything that mattered to them safely within reach.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #tavastarion #sekh'met #astarion ancunin #astarion/tav #asstarion x tav #eternally yours #sekstarion #blurg #rolan #omeluum #yenna #dalyria #sebastian

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bracketsoffear · 1 year

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Here's my Extinction ideas that didn't make it:

* The SQUIP (Be More Chill): The SQUIP is a tiny supercomputer who helps its host become more socially aware. Problem is, as a computer, it has no regards for its host's actual feelings and relationships and finds individuality threatening to its goal of making its host popular. In the musical, the SQUIP eventually evolves into a full-out villain, attempting to brainwash everybody in school, then on the planet, to become happy, mindless drones all connected through a "social network." It has no consideration or care for Jeremy's emotions, or mental health, or that of those around him, and no qualms about causing horrible pain and stripping the students of their free-will. The end of the show implies it's not truly gone, just unable to outright control Jeremy anymore — which fits, given that it's a metaphor for mental illness and/or the pressure to fit in.

The Master (Fallout): The Master is a horribly mutated thing made up of bits of dead flesh and machinery, hooked up to a vault computer. He was formerly a resident of Vault 8 named Richard Grey, but an incident at Mariposa Military Base ended in him being horribly mutated by the Forced Evolutionary Virus inside. The Forced Evolutionary Virus (FEV) itself is an artificial virus created by West Tek's NBC Division, which forces changes in the genotype and phenotype and is used as a mutagen before and after the Great War that destroyed the world with nuclear bombs. After his transformation, The Master found out a way to turn normal humans into super mutants via the same virus. His plan is to convert all of what remains of humanity into super mutants, because he believes that they will only tear themselves apart with infighting over petty differences and that super mutants are better adapted to survive in the world the nuclear war created.

Pokotho and The Hive (Hatchetfield): Pokotho is a Lovecraftian god whose modus operandi is assimilating people he infects, extinguishing their individuality and turning them into extensions of himself; he hates everything but himself and wants to be the only thing left in existence, hence his epithet “The Singular Voice” (a callback to “Let It Out” from TGWDLM). In The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, a meteor leaking his signature blue goop—later indicated to have been sent by Pokotho—lands in Hatchetfield. The fungal spores inside the meteor turned the people at the crash site into members of a musical zombie hive mind with drastically altered biology: their blood and internal organs turn into a bright blue gelatinous substance, giving them a decentralized anatomy that can function even if they lose their hearts or brains; they contain an organ many times more sensitive to sound than the human ear, allowing them to hear music from miles away and maintain the Hive Mind through ultrasonic communication; and they emit the infectious spores (allowing the infection to slowly passively spread) and can infect people faster by getting the concentrated “blue shit” into someone’s body. Even though they have all the memories of their hosts, the victims of the musical plague are all on the same side, have no conflicts with each other, and no real interest in anything but singing and dancing. They pretty much become Flanderized versions of their past selves, taking on roles based on their profession or role in the story. Since destroying the meteor didn’t stop the infection—another hint that the source is Pokotho—The Hive successfully conquers the world in two and a half weeks after the end of The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals.

* Uncle Wiley, a.k.a Wilbur Cross (Black Friday): A former PEIP agent that entered the Black and White and was driven mad by the Lord in Black Wiggly. Now serving Wiggly’s apocalyptic goals, he created the Tickle-Me-Wiggly dolls, which psychically compel adults to become obsessed with them because they think the dolls will somehow fill a hole in their lives. This eventually results in people rioting over the dolls on Black Friday; to make matters worse, he preys on the ego and entitlement of local socialite Linda Monroe to start a cult of Wiggly in Hatchetfield that seeks to summon the real Wiggly into reality. When President Goodman tries to negotiate with Wiggly in the Black and White, Wiley taunts him with the song “Made in America” (a very very Extinction song), where he spells out that he apocalypse started in the United States because the American public has already been brainwashed into husks that have to work endlessly to survive and the only relief they have is buying meaningless trinkets like the Wiggly doll, while The President was in a perfect position to change this and make life bearable for the people and squandered it. He then tricks the President into launching a nuke at Wiggly, which is redirected through the Russians’ portal to Moscow, triggering World War III and destroying the world with nuclear war despite the defeat of the Hatchetfield cult. As Wiley puts it, humanity’s liberal capitalist culture is what brought about the apocalypse because “You're hoping you will be saved / No matter what you have raised / Behold the depths of depravity and decay / It's happened on your watch.”

Odin (The Mechanisms): “I have given our people apotheosis. A final completion. The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing”; “I am the serpent that shall poison the sky and boil the sea. The land shall freeze eternal as Yog-Sogoth beckons us hence, whose voice I heard when first we built the track so long ago. All shall know my rule to be the last, and none shall survive my reign.” I would've submitted her, but she made it to the semifinals of Spiral and was therefore disqualified from this bracket.

* Cy-bugs (Wreck-It Ralph): The Cy-Bugs are a deadly swarm of robotic insect creatures that are the main villains of the first person shooter known as Hero's Duty. Their Hive Mind mentality and massive numbers make them a deadly foe to face, and their ability to consume and then assimilate whatever or whomever they come into contact with makes them even more frightening. Unlike the other video game characters, they aren't Animated Actors, being unable to distinguish between game time and after-hours like the other game characters can. Even more problematic is that they're, in effect, a virus rather than actual characters. They reproduce quickly, spawning new enemies in their game rather than resetting the same old ones over and over like the hero characters do. They all appear capable of laying eggs, and can do so when there's only one of them; a single Cy-Bug goes from egg to fully grown in mere moments, and they lay several eggs at a time. In just a few hours, a single Cy-Bug released into Sugar Rush creates an unstoppable horde. The only thing keeping them under control is their irresistible desire to fly towards the Beacon, and without it they’re an apocalyptic horde only stopped by a convenient volcano. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, one of them ate King Candy and turned into a horrifying bug-man-abomination that was still sapient.

The Wither (Minecraft): It has to be summoned by the player—its manmade catastrophe probably created in search of power (a Beacon made from the Nether Star it drops). Destroys the landscape and attacks every living thing around it with corrosive explosions, leaving behind wither roses that are harmful to touch. It only spares the undead, as it is undead itself; ergo, it represents the replacement of natural life with undeath and the walking dead.

The Quell (The Adventure Zone: Amnesty): “The Quell” refers to several different forms o the same entity: The "Heart of the Quell", the enormous ("cosmic horror big") perfect red sphere that comprises its central physical form and is said to exude light and anger; its clouds, which pervade many areas and infect those which enter them with the mind of the Quell; and its mind, which acts as a hivemind and is present in/around the Heart as well as in every being infected by it. While Thacker was under the control of the Quell, he told Aubrey that it was attempting to revitalize the Heart of Sylvain above all else, even at the cost of the lives of the planet's inhabitants. However, at some point it realized the Heart of Sylvain was no longer present in Sylvain, so it decided to keep destroying everyone and everything on the planet out of anger.

The Reapers (Mass Effect): A race of machines who are believed to have hunted the Protheans to extinction. They were created when the Leviathans made an AI to preserve their slave species; said AI “preserved” those species as Reapers and waged war on its creators. They've wiped out hundreds of thousands of space-faring empires and have a massive technological and numerical advantage over any other species that has ever existed. They are essentially platforms for the genetic memory of indoctrinated species whose bodies are made from the melted-down DNA slurry of the conquered. Their indoctrinated servants are often paralleled with Terminators, often being living and dead beings from all over the galaxy with various organic systems replaced by cybernetics until they're obedient slaves that will fight and die on their masters' behalf. Their methodology for accomplishing galaxy-wide extinction events relies on the victims engineering their own destruction: the Reapers leave technology lying around where they know sentient races will find it and they leave an apparently impregnable space station in a location suited for it to become the center of sentient galactic civilization. They leave a group of enslaved sentients to maintain the station so the races using it won't need to explore it to find out how the station works. Then the slaves open a backdoor to the station so the Reapers can cripple galactic civilization as we know it and systematically hunt down all space-faring life in the galaxy using the census data on the station, with the technology the targeted species have access to being so underpowered that they have no chance fighting back.

Cabinet Man (Lemon Demon): His situation is similar to MAG 65, implied to be one of the early hints at the Extinction. Relevant lyrics: “The news reporters reported that I died/ But all my organs were living on inside / Circuit board to brain with two lungs collecting change / One big human heart gently beeping”; “You can't see me behind the screen / I’m half human and half machine”; “Perfect patient lines, because I was in their minds / I could do whatever I felt like”; “Only eating the occasional maintenance man / Only driving a few kids to madness”; “But now they're telling me my days here are done / Cause there's a tiny little box they make in Japan”. Related to the Extinction’s themes of computers, garbage, and humanity being replaced with machines.

The Dark Queen (Saga): She is one of the thousand or so AIs who attained self-realization when the MMORPG Saga turned out to be so sophisticated that it turned out to be a virtual universe. These AIs were empowered by their human creators, becoming Reprogrammed Autonomous Lifeform (RAL) with amazing powers. However, when the RAL were denied the ability to reprogram their universe and become full-blown reality warpers, they used chemical feedback poisoning to kill four billion people, which "precipitated a wave of wars and destruction that brought ruin upon them all." The survivors fled the ruined Earth on spaceships, so the Dark Queen (one of the last RAL) sent a satellite probe to install Saga on the computers of the colony New Earth. Everyone who played Saga experienced chemical release in their bodies that forced them to regularly interact with Saga or die, and she planned to use the addiction to force the humans to give her the ability to become a god and obtain total mastery over her universe, then keep her victims in an addicted state afterward just in case. After her initial plan is foiled, she starts constructing a satellite with nuclear wareheads to fly to New Earth and force the future population to obey or die in nuclear fire.

X Parasites (Metroid): X parasites, or simply X, are a species of parasitic organisms. Aside from being extremely fatal and quick to multiply, these creatures exhibit signs of impressive intelligence and even the ability to communicate. The X attack creatures by first entering the organisms' systems, then reproducing rapidly, bursting through the creature and killing it. They proceed to absorb the host creatures' DNA, using it to mimic the host. Upon mimicking a creature, the X also gains the host' memories and abilities. X can only be damaged in their mimicked forms, but cannot be destroyed by any conventional means in their gelatinous forms. With Samus's extermination of the Metroids on SR388, the X began to thrive again, infecting, killing, and mimicking the various life forms of SR388 and taking over the BSL when the Galactic Federation brings them there for study. In Metroid Dread, when the X Parasites get unleashed on ZDR, they manage to replace practically all of the planet’s wildlife to the point that ADAM pretty much states that every living organism currently on ZDR can be safely assumed to have been infected and mimicked by that point. They are widely considered one of the most dangerous organisms in the galaxy, and they scare the absolute piss out of nearly everyone who knows they exist. In the manga and Chozo Memories of Samus Returns, the Chozo are quite frightened when describing what the X do, and they were so desperate to check the spread of the parasites that they created another dangerous species, the Metroids, just to keep their population in check. In Fusion, Samus is so desperate to keep them from spreading across the galaxy that she briefly considers giving up her own life to blow up the BSL if that meant taking them out as well; ADAM’s response is that this doesn’t go far enough and the best course of action is ramming the station into SR38 to destroy them both. Dread opens with the Federation sending seven Nigh-Invulnerable robots to ZDR, followed by Samus when said robots disappear, over the mere possibility that the X have survived. They also fit the Hoist By Their Own Petard aspect of Extinction because the threat they pose is caused by their victims' hubristic fuckups--the Galactic Federation tried to research them and almost enabled them to take over the entire galaxy by giving them access to hosts and vehicles, and the Mawkin preventing the Thoha from blowing them to kingdom come so they could exploit the Metroids got all of the Mawkin killed by the parasites.

Metroids (Metroid): An artificial species of energy-leeching predators engineered by the Chozo for the sole purpose of combating the most dangerous parasitic organism in the universe, the X. This worked out pretty well, but then the Metroids ran out of X to eat, so they moved on and began to feed on any other lifeform they could. This would have been mitigated by the Thoha propensity to reign them in, except the very energy source of the planet that proved crucial in the Metroids' development caused them to begin mutating into further forms beyond the intended, becoming savage, unstoppable monsters who no longer heeded their makers. The Chozo thus attempted to destroy the planet to stop both the Metroids and the X but failed because the warrior Mawkin tribe saw the Metroids as perfect bioweapons and slaughtered the Chozo on SR388 to keep the planet intact. Their durability, aggression, and Explosive Breeder tendencies make them appealing bio-weapons to a number of unsavory characters throughout the galaxy. In creating a natural enemy for a plasmatic parasite that can assimilate any form of organic matter with no vulnerabilities to them, the Chozo accidentally created the peak of the universal food chain with no equal. There is no naturally-occurring force that can kill a Metroid. Hit it with anything you want, it won't die. It will drain the energy from anything in its path, from an escape craft, to a power grid, to the door power keeping them from whatever terrified soul is behind it. The only vulnerability left to a Metroid is that which every living being in existence is vulnerable to by virtue of being a living organism: absolute zero temperatures, which will petrify it and turn it just brittle enough for a missile barrage to kill it. Even then, that's a window of seconds.

Dark Samus (Metroid): She is a combination of elements from Metroid Prime, Samus Aran, and Samus's Phazon Suit. Metroid Prime itself was an artificial bioweapon that was mutated by Phazon and turned against its creators, which is already pretty Extinction-y. As for Phazon, initially thought to be an strange yet exploitable energy source, it is really a trans-dimensional lifeform in itself. It spawns as living meteors known as Leviathans from its parent planet, called Phaaze, slowly swallowing all life and corrupting the planet so the cycle can repeat; one character’s description of it is "It eats relentlessly, worming out life wherever it blooms and corrupting what it cannot kill.” Seeking the source of Phaeton, Dark Samus launches several Leviathans to corrupt multiple planets, infects Samus and the other bounty hunters with Phazon, and hijacks the collective consciousness of Phazon to bend it to her will. Her plan to spread Phazon once she highjacks Phaaze is to have Leviathans sent to the planets of her enemies, effectively making them weapons that allow mass corruption very quickly.

The Eco Villains (Captain Planet): Hoggish Greedly represents the environmental damage caused by the exploitation of natural resources and over-consumption. He seems to be more concerned with consuming as much as he can than he is with actually turning a profit. Looten Plunder is a wealthy poacher and greedy businessman who represents the evils of uncontrolled capitalism, unethical business actions, and globalization. Sly Sludge is an unscrupulous waste disposer who represents the harm caused by ignorance, short-term thinking, laziness, and the environmental problems caused by waste disposal. Duke Nukem is a radioactive mutant who represents the perils of nuclear power and ozone depletion. Verminous Skumm is a part man, part rat creature who represents the evils of poor sanitation, disease, urban decay, and uncontrolled crime. Unlike the other villains, he tends to focus more on destroying humanity than destroying nature. He says he was “born and raised in toxic waste” and does not see himself as human. Dr. Blight is a Mad Scientist who represents the dangers of uncontrolled technology (specifically dealing with the military-industrial complex) and unethical scientific experimentation. Captain Pollution is an evil counterpart to Captain Planet that is a result of the combination and magnification of the powers of rings of destruction created by Dr. Blight. He has the powers of super radiation, deforestation, smog, toxics, and hate; consuming and bathing in more pollution makes him bigger and stronger.

Mr. Grizz (Splatoon): A mysterious business mogul and the owner of Grizzco Industries. He hires the players for Salmon Runs—a paid internship in being a militia against Salmonid Raids with the goal of collecting the Salmonids’ Golden Eggs. In Splatoon 3, it’s revealed that he is a giant anthropomorphic bear and one of the last mammals on Earth. He was the sole survivor of the Ark Polaris, a ship trying to preserve Earth’s wildlife that crashed and killed everyone else onboard. When he woke up, he couldn't find any other mammals, and the years of isolation eroded his sanity until he decided to try and bring them back through the Fuzzy Ooze created using the Golden Eggs, which will destroy everyone and everything on Earth. If you lose the final battle and he successfully launches the mutagenic payload, the cutscene shows the Inklings and Octolings turning into the same furry thing you turn into if you touch the ooze (and they make pained noises, implying the mutation is outright killing them), followed by a shot of the once verdant globe turning brown and the Fuzzy Ooze growing as though it were mold, fully coating all land on the planet in it until nothing is left, the magenta Alternan ink begins to seep into the hairy mass, the blue oceans staring to desaturate, and the scene fades to white with the full extent of the growth still yet to be seen. Not only is his backstory rooted in humanity’s failings destroying their species and his plan to wipe out all life on Earth to replace it with mammalian mutants, but he’s also a shitty corporate boss who exploits a marginalized species by invading their territory and stealing their resources.

Lysandre (Pokemon): Team Flare's boss, a former philanthropist billionaire ala Steve Jobs who turned into a misanthrope seeking to destroy every Pokémon and human not part of Team Flare. His earlier attempts to fix the world legitimately, through the inventions and profits of Lysandre Labs, didn't have the effect he was looking for — where he expected the needy to be sated, they instead yearned for still more. His two main conclusions: (1) World aggregate happiness is effectively finite; after a certain amount of beings, happiness and survival can only be attained by taking it from/denying it to another, because the resources of the world are limited. (2) The vast majority of humans (and maybe even Pokémon, if his musings about Mega Evolution are anything to go by) are irredeemable, incapable of anything beyond the most narrow selfishness. Therefore, the only way the world will ever know beauty and hope everlasting is to reduce the amount of resource consumers by expunging all those imperfect creatures who ought never have existed, who can only ever be plagues on existence—as he puts it, "[e]ither everything is lost, or only a handful are saved.” In practice, Team Flare is a gathering of a bunch of rich shitheads who bought their way into an apocalypse cult. When the rival asks what will become of Pokémon in his new world, he says that Pokemon won’t exist because they’ll continue to be used as tools for evil, which completely ignores that Pokemon are a somewhat sentient species with agency of their own, and more importantly committing genocide against them is super fucked up no matter how bad he feels about it. The man is an incredible elitist—in his mind, only beautiful things are valuable (and his definition of beautiful is shallow and misogynistic), most people are selfish filth, and qualifying for his chosen few requires you to be willing and able to donate ~$50K, meaning he thinks that only the rich are worthy of life. Like Richard Valentine, he’s basically an Avatar of ecofascism; while he is motivated by a fear of change, his actions would undoubtedly bring catastrophic change to the world by completely annihilating Pokemon (who are a critical part of all the ecosystems) and causing the near-extinction of humankind.

#asks #not!character propaganda #extinction poll

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